


Downsides of Better Late than Never

by codevassie, gdesertsand



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Moments of Insanity, Psychological Drama, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codevassie/pseuds/codevassie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdesertsand/pseuds/gdesertsand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2P Prussia died after his dissolution and everyone was being destroyed with guilt. 2P Austria though found out that the other world they called ‘1P’ has still their own Prussia alive and kicking but no one appreciates him. So why not take him if he was not appreciated? The 2Ps will take good care of 1P!Prussia. (Nationverse, 2Pverse, Human and Country names used.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Treasure to Steal

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story can be found also in Fanfiction.net under the name CodeAndSand. This is a collaborative work created by both me (gdesertsand) and my awesome friend CodeVassie. Check out CodeVassie's stories also in Fanfiction.net!
> 
> Check out our tumblr also: codeandsandshenanigans

**Characters: (We just searched in Google so we don’t own any of them)**

 

2P!Italy= Luciano Vargas, 2P!Romano= Flavio Vargas, 2P!Germany= Lutz Beilschmidt, 2P!Prussia= Klaus Beilschmidt, 

2P!Japan= Kuro Honda, 2P!England= Oliver Kirkland, 2P!America= Allen Jones, 2P!Canada= James Williams, 

2P!France= Francois Bonnefoy, 2P!Russia= Viktor Braginski, 2P!China= Xiao Wang, 2P!Austria= Roland Edelstein, 

2P!Hungary= Erzsébet Héderváry, 2P!Switzerland= Voss Zwingli, 2P!Norway= Loki Bondevik, 2P!Romania= Vasska Popescu

* * *

**Chapter 1:** A Treasure to Steal

 

_“We hereby declare that the Free State of Prussia…is officially dissolved…”_

Those were the last words that kept ringing inside Oliver’s mind. The World War II caused a lot of problems among countries, especially the members of Axis and Allies. At the start of the war the Axis powers had no problem in being as ruthless as possible. Even Luciano was having the time of his life during the war. But as it progress everyone soon noticed that this was not a war that the winners could receive glory. It was not a war in the first place. It was brutal annihilation of enemies. Once when Oliver was ordered to be a spy he met Germany’s older brother, Prussia or he commonly called as ‘Klaus’ because that was his human name and the silent man preferred to be called as such also. They chatted for a while and Klaus told Oliver that his brother was very upset at what was happening in the war. Both German brothers did not like where it was going. At the end, once the allies won, a decision was made. A decision that every personification did not agree but still declared because it was the wish of their people, no one managed to changed it.

 

_“We hereby declare…”_

Even Allen delivered the speech with shaky tone, as if he would cry once he finished the sentence.

 

_“…that the Free State of Prussia…”_

 

Klaus just stared at them. He made eye contact to everyone who was allowed inside the room. His eye lingered a bit longer to Germany then he gave a serene smile. As if telling to all of them that everything will be okay.

 

Luciano and Kuro were watching with indifference. Only Flavio noticed the blood flowing from his little brother’s closed fist. How twisted the world they had. In order to have peace they must always give a sacrificial lamb.

 

_“…is officially dissolved…”_

 

And dissolved into nothingness he did. Oliver cried, Lutz cried, Francois sighed in defeat, Allen destroyed the table with his bat, James just stared up on the ceiling, Viktor adjusted his scarf to hide his face, Luciano left the room with Flavio following after him, Xiao silently fumed at first but then left the room also and Kuro followed after.

 

The peace was not for long while though. The tension finally reached its maximum level between Allen and Viktor sparking what they called the Cold War. Lutz could not care less though if his land was divided into two. East Germany would never had its own personification. At first Lutz was hopeful that there might be a single chance that his brother would be reborn again. But after five years he gave up. He didn’t even dare to hope again once the wall finally came down.

 

Good thing he did also because no one was waiting for him on the other side.

 

Roland never visited the other countries also. Normally the personification of Austria would bother Germany just to visit Prussia. Lutz had no problem with this because Roland was one of the people that could make his brother happy. Roland was obsessed also with Klaus that he would harm anyone that dared to touch the albino the wrong way.

 

After the dissolution of Prussia no one could get Roland out of his house. Even Erzsébet who had so much patience and practiced dealing with the Austrian could not do it.

 

Oliver knew that Roland was dabbing on the dark arts again. He made sure his fairies to keep on tab about the happenings inside Austria’s house. But even Oliver knew that magic has their own limits. The dead could never be revived again. Even for creatures like them.

 

So consider his surprise, along with everyone else, when Roland attended the world meeting again for the first time since forever. Usually it was Erzsébet or Voss who represents Austria’s reports.

 

At first what Roland wanted to happen was just plain ridiculous to others while for some it was like staining the memory of the dead.

 

“Just listen to me until I finished before you guys jumped in to contradict me!”

 

“And what do you want to prove Roland? For what I see you just wanted to get a replacement.” Lutz gave a menacing glare that was similar during the wars.

 

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not.” Roland appeared as relaxed as possible with a room full of people waiting to punch him on the right moment, “But hear me first.”

 

“I say we listened for what he wanted to say.” Luciano spoke for the rest which sparked another level of arguments.

 

“Ah~ but think of it first. Roland is well versed to the dark arts like Oliver, Loki, and Vasska. Surely he has some kind of good explanation.” Flavio suggested but his eyes spoke that if someone dared to contradict him then he would not hesitate to show his Mafia side.

 

“Hmph! I am only agreeing because this is much more interesting than the usual world meetings.”

 

“Sure~ Keep telling that to yourself Kuro~”

 

“Why you—?!”

 

“Now, now, Luci~ Don’t start another argument~ You don’t want your Big Brother Flavio to punished you later, do you?” with the threat hanging in the air Luciano immediately shut his mouth. Flavio never give empty threats after all.

 

If Luciano was a known sadist then Flavio was two times worse. The Southern Italy though never showed interest to whatever happened to their country but if anyone dared to hurt his little brother or anyone closed to him then there would be a great chance of another war to occur. The reason he didn’t took a major participation in the world wars was because Luciano agreed to it. Flavio don’t need to baby his brother that much. He still had some sense to let Luciano learned from his own mistakes.

 

With everyone settled down Roland started his explanation.

 

“All of us are aware of parallel worlds, right? And our world is commonly known as ‘2P’, the other side of the coin of the ‘1P’ world”

 

“Yeah, the only ones who are not aware of parallels is the first world itself. Ugh, I can’t really take it whenever my counterpart starts shouting about his hero bullshit.”

 

“Right, well, despite our differences with our counterparts we still have something that makes us the same with them.”

 

“Oh!” Oliver finally caught up to what Roland was trying to say, “Do you mean the ‘soul theory’?”

 

“Yes! As a fellow magician I knew I can count on you Oliver!”

 

“Oh, dear, stop flattering me, love~”

 

“Mum, seriously, stop your giggling.”

 

“Allen, dear! How many times I told you not to call me ‘Mum’? I’m a man also.”

 

“Mum, let’s just hear what Roland has to say.”

 

“Even you James?”

 

“I don’t care to how they call you, just let him finish so we can stop dealing with this shit.”

 

“Ahem, thank you Luciano…I guess.” Roland then put a spherical mirror on the center of the table, “So, basically the ‘Soul Theory’ is that no matter how many parallel worlds there might be all of us still share the same soul. The only thing that changes each version of us in this worlds are the courses of our actions. For example, my 1P decided to continue his aristocratic attitude and tried to harbor a certain dislike to their Prussia. If in another time he decided to swallow his pride then the end result will be someone like me!”

 

What Roland said was easy to digest for everyone but the question of why he wanted his plan to proceed was still a mystery. Someone voiced this question which Roland answered with a devious smile.

 

“I checked every possible parallel world that aligned to us and guess what?” Roland pricked his index finger on the right hand with a small bite and started drawing a pentagram on the mirror. Once the symbol was finished it became huge enough to cover the whole table for everyone to see their reflections. With a trick of the light though their reflection was replaced by another scenery, it was a conference room just like theirs and it was clear that the people surrounding the table were their counterparts, “The only world with a still living Prussia is that one, the place we like to call as ‘1P’.”

 

To prove his point a certain albino suddenly barged inside the meeting room, as shown by the mirror, and started proclaiming on how awesome he was.

 

“I still don’t get what you want to prove, Roland”

 

“Oh~ little Lutz, didn’t I always tell you to watch and learn?”

 

Lutz was irritated, in fact the longer he watched the other version of Klaus the more he thinks that Roland had the same annoying attitude.

 

In mere seconds though everyone became angry to their counterparts because despite their psychotic tendencies all of them values two things inside their hearts and that was family and friendship.

 

_“What are you doing here, Bruder? You are not allowed inside the world meeting!”_

_“You’re so annoying, Prussia. You’re not even a country anymore.”_

_“Mister Austria is right, no one needs you here, Prussia.”_

_“I still wonder why you didn’t disappear along with your dissolution.”_

There was a visible hurt inside Prussia’s eyes but surprise, surprise, none of their counterparts realized this because they were busy listing the reasons why the albino should not mess with the real countries. Only the ones watching through the mirror saw how each word harmed the former nation’s heart.

 

They saw Prussia merely laughed it off and said something along the lines of ‘too awesome presence’ and went outside. The albino walked away silently until he managed to find a room where he could be alone. Locking the door, he started to cry.

 

The mirror returned to its normal size after that scene.

 

Everyone was now silently fuming in every sort of negative emotion.

 

“I don’t agree with the idea of kidnapping my Bruder’s counterpart to replace him…”

 

“I told you they are the same!”

 

“But!” Lutz tried to emphasize his point before Roland decided to turn him into a dandelion, “I think…we should take that Prussia under our wing.”

 

Only a blind man would not see how happy Roland was after Lutz said his verdict.

 

“You said they have the same soul thus being the same person right?” Flavio received a vigorous nod, “Then I think I know what our Prussia and that Prussia’s main difference~’

 

“Fratello, even an idiot can answer that.”

 

“No, no, no, my sweet Luci~ I’m not talking about that difference! Klaus’ main weakness was that he always wore his heart on his sleeve, right?”

 

“You’re right, when Klaus was still Teutonic Knight and we both fell in the frozen lake, he cried nonstop after I saved him. Klaus only stopped when I said that I am not angry to him. I’m just pissed off by the idiocy of his knights.”

 

“So, the other Prussia was a total opposite~”

 

“You mean he always bottled up his feelings! That’s disastrous!” Oliver knew it first hand, having a title of a nation as a serial killer. That’s why a famous serial killer story started to spread out in London.

 

“Just when I think my counterpart could not get even more ridiculous about being a hero he just went up and proved me wrong.” Allen massaged his head to prevent somehow the incoming headache.

 

“We will only join this plan if the reason will be is that we are going to rescue that Prussia from those insensitive bastards.” Loki spoke for their group.

 

“If you want to look at it that way then, yes.” Roland agreed to the small condition.

 

“Then we’re going to jump on this plan of yours.”

 

“Of course you can trust me to lend a hand, love~”

 

“Heh! As part of the magic trio I will help also setting the necessary materials for the ritual.” Vasska finally joined in…with unneeded enthusiasm.

 

“Hm! It looks like everyone finally made up their minds!”

 

“It looks like it, Luci~ for the first time all of us are working together to fulfill one goal~”

 

“Wait a minute.” With just few words the cheery aura vanished into thin air. The source of the voice was the Personification of Canada, “I just have one more condition.”

 

“And what would it be, love?”

 

“I want our counterparts to feel some sense of demise once we get Prussia.”

 

Silence returned again as the nations tried to weigh their options. That was until Roland displayed a sinister smile on his face.

 

“Fine by me~ As long as you guys can erased the evidences~”

 

They were called the dark side for a reason after all.

* * *

Prussia couldn’t even remember where he had gone after he had ducked out of the world meeting room. He had just been following his urge to get away - his need to hide from the hurtful comments that had greeted him upon his entry into the room all the nations had convened. Prussia remembered when he had been welcomed in the room… that was back when he was a country… when he had actually had people of his own and a culture and a home.

 

Now all that was left of Prussia was a memory and a personification. Gilbert often wondered why he had remained after his dissolution. He should have faded when his country had been no more… or at least after the Berlin wall had been torn down. Yet, somehow the human embodiment of the former nation still stood, platinum hair, crimson eyes, and all.

 

Once Gilbert had realized he was crying he immediately attempted to stop. Why was he crying? The awesome him didn’t cry! Prussia barely ever cried; he hadn’t even cried the day after that horrible war when all the countries had convened for their post-war meeting… the day his country had been no more. Yet, here he was, a sobbing mess in some random room at the World Summit building. The ex-nation tried to chuckle a bit, releasing the tension that had unmistakably built up in him, but the laughter came out more as a strangled sob added to the many more that had already been building in his chest.

 

“You are too awesome to cry…” He reminded himself. He stayed on the floor of the empty room for a while longer, rushing to pull himself together yet unable to quickly enough.

 

It wasn’t their fault he was crying… They had just been saying the same things they normally would when Prussia interrupted a meeting. It happened often enough - Prussia always got bored when he was alone and unable to bother his brother or hang out with his friends. He rarely talked to humans nowadays when it was just awkward enough as it was that most couldn’t even recall who Prussia was.

 

_“Prussia? That was a country? I don’t remember learning about that in school…”_

 

Sometimes Prussia felt like Canada when people couldn’t remember him. Sometimes he envied Canada though. He’d rather still have his country and be invisible than be caught in the weird state between not being human or country. What was he if he was neither? He sure as hell wasn’t a micronation. He had been a country previously. The only former countries he knew of were long gone… disappeared when their country had fallen… dead.

 

Prussia didn’t know what he was… who he was. He never thought about it too much though. It only rained on his awesome parade. But now… after all those hurtful things the others had said… it wasn’t uncommon but there was something about this time. He just couldn’t take it this time. It wasn’t their fault he was crying when they always said things like this.

 

Gilbert dried his tears on his sleeve, shutting his eyes hard for a moment before they sprung back open to show that his shaky and fragile-looking red eyes had changed back to their normal arrogant and somewhat roughly strong appearance. It was all a front, but as long as Prussia believed it to be true, others would as well. Gilbert laughed loudly to banish any former thoughts or feelings. “It’s not my fault the lot of them took asshole pills this morning! What a bunch of _arschlocks_!” This followed with another laugh, this one sounding more like his hissing signature laugh.

 

Prussia stood from where he knelt and looked around. He was in some random room. It was dim, illuminated only by the bright sun behind thick curtains draped over the windows. A bed was pushed against the wall with a nightstand at its side and a closet in the corner. It seemed to be one of the many guest rooms that he had slipped into. This one looked to be uninhabited which did not surprise the former nation in the least. Most of the rooms around there probably hadn't been touched in years. Now he just had to figure out a way back. Not to the meeting room. He was done with the other nations for the day. No, he just wanted to find the exit and go home.

 

As Prussia turned toward the door, though, something caught his eye. There was a mirror in the corner. It was a plain, floor-length mirror that stood on its stand in the corner between the dresser and the wall with the window. Its surface reflected the bed and the opposite corner where the closest lay shut tight. That was funny… Gilbert could have sworn he had seen something…

 

He walked up to the mirror, seeing as his reflection walked into the image. He gave a winner smile and pointed his pointer fingers at his reflected person. “Pssh. The mirror is doing nothing more than its awesome job by showing my awesome reflection!”

 

Then Prussia turned away and strode from the room, wearing an air of confidence as he strode down the halls. He was unaware of the fact that the mirror had changed once again, as it had when he thought he had imagined it. As if stuck in the mirror itself, a man watched after him as he went, violet eyes gleaming as they followed him out the door.

* * *

“ _Bruder_ , you know you are not supposed to attend the world meetings anymore. You are no longer a nation and it is no longer your responsibility.”

 

“Ah, West! You know you missed me! That meeting looked boring anyway; I’m sure I was the highlight of the whole thing!” Gilbert had been lying with his face towards the ceiling on the sofa in their sitting room. The television was on but Prussia didn’t even know what channel he had flipped it to before he had zoned out, watching the lines in the plaster of the ceiling and letting thoughts flow through his head. He wasn’t normally one for putting up with these boring past times - usually only needing a sneeze to change his mind and be done with it - but for some odd reason he had found himself not himself lately.

 

His brother’s words as he had arrived home stuck with him when Germany left the room and he found himself immersed in thought once more. No longer his responsibility? What responsibility did he even have left? Despite always giving off an air of idleness, he was a very hardworker. Having nothing to do, no responsibility of his own anymore, it was driving him nuts. He cleaned the house because it was something he could do. He denied that he had actually done it when it came down to it; no way the awesome him had done something like _clean_ when he had other important things to do. The fact of the matter, though, was he really _didn’t_ have anything better to do.

 

Another fact of Gilbert’s lack of responsibility since his nation had dissolved was his excruciating boredom. He had friends to hang out with, errands he could do, a brother he could bother, and many other nations to poke around at, but in the end the boredom always caught up to him.

 

Prussia was bored. Prussia was tired of not having anything to do for the world. His former people had grown to be Germany’s people so he often thought he could help his brother with work at times. Germany didn’t trust him to keep up with work though. Damn all those years he had kept his country afloat and even prosperous! Prussia couldn’t keep up with the duties of a country apparently even though he had _way_ more years of experience than his little _bruder_!

 

The red-eyed personification sighed as he looked down at his feet which were kicked at the end of the couch. Was he no longer needed there? All this laying around made him feel so useless! “Am I no longer important?” He asked his shoelaces. He imagined them jumping up like tiny snakes, their little aglets bobbing up and down in agreement, confirming his self doubt.

 

Thank God they didn’t. He would have had more to worry about than his own importance if they had. Then again… if they had, these thoughts wouldn’t be in his head anymore. They would have been banished when his panic had bubbled over his own state of mind. Would that have been more preferable? Thinking he was going insane instead of dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t needed any longer?

 

Gilbert wasn’t sure anymore. This thinking, it always hurt his head. Damn thinking.

 

“I might drink until I see double tonight. Triple if I’m lucky.” He said as he hoisted himself off of the sofa. “That always makes my slightly less awesome days better.”

 

Prussia wasn’t lying and he was no lightweight either. He drank more beers than his muddled mind could count that night; even a sober person would have had trouble keeping up. Everything was kind of blurry that night at the bar. Gilbert could have sworn there was a guy sitting next to him just a second ago and where had the music gone? The barkeep was wiping the counters and untying his weird half apron thing that those waiter people guys wore. What were those things called again? Did they have names? Eh. Gilbert didn’t care; he just wanted another beer.

 

“We’re closed.” The guy across the counter said in a slightly irritated tone. Hell, shouldn’t this guy be used to weirdos stepping in his bar; why was he looking at Gilbert like that of all people?

 

Prussia looked around for a moment, bewildered as he took in the desolate booths and stools. There was morning light leaking through the blinds on the windows which he knew would give him a splitting headache the moment he walked out those doors. But leave he did. He wasn’t in the mood to start anything and he was sure his brother wasn’t in the mood to pick him up from the police station. The sun hurt as it pierced his eyes, sending the same pain signals to his throbbing head. It sucked not being a nation anymore; he used to be able to handle a night of drinking like a pro.

 

Suddenly his thoughts turned once again to his former nationhood and the world summit he had interrupted the day before. He turned down a dark alley to shield himself from the blazing sunlight and leaned against the wall to get his bearings.

 

“They don’t need me anymore. Not my people… not West…” Gilbert’s mind was a bit foggy from the alcohol but hell if he was going to let the liquor take him that easily! But what if that was the only way to get away from his thoughts that seemed to be following him so insistently? He could just lay down and take a nice nap here… no one would even notice he was gone… no one would worry… Prussia unconsciously slid down the wall, staring at the element stained pavement below. Weeds sprouted in the cracks where the sidewalk met the brick wall of the bar. “I’m not important anymore…”

 

“That’s not true, Prussia. You’re important to _us_.”

 

That was funny. That voice sounded familiar but… there was something different about it. If only he could figure out why it sounded familiar then perhaps he could figure out why it was different as well. When the ex-nation looked up to see who had spoken to him, though, his vision began to blur. Then Gilbert’s mind completely fogged over and his eyes slid shut. His body fell sideways almost losing itself to the impact against the pavement, but, before that could happen, a pair of arms caught him. He was already unconscious, though when the figures above him spoke.

 

Roland held the other Prussia’s limp body in his arms. It wasn’t _his_ Prussia, but he had seen enough to know that this one was enough of the same. It had been a long time since he’d had Prussia so close - since he had gotten to protect the one he held most dear. He straightened up, bringing the man with to carry him. “We must get back. They will not be able to hold the portal for long.”

 

“Wait.” A gruff voice stopped him as Roland had been about to head back toward the dead ended part of the alley. “What of my condition?”

 

Roland turned back to look James in the eye. Their Canada was a serious but brutal character and not one easily forgotten. Roland didn’t bat an eye when facing him, though. “This world does not understand how Prussia survived his dissolution, do they? None of the worlds do.” James’ silence was cue for Roland to continue. “So, I say we give them what’s coming to them. When their Prussia disappears let them experience, even for just a moment, the loss of what good thing they had. Let them think that their dear friend Prussia, always taken for granted, is dead. Finally disappeared like any fallen nation.”

 

James just watched him, unimpressed.

 

“And then, after they have faced their grief and selfishness, we can come in.” Roland smirked, “I mean, you didn’t really think I’d let them get off with just that? Where’s the fun?”

 

“So, we’ll be back?”

 

“Oh, we’ll definitely be back.” They began to walk down the alley, towards a door at the far end - a door that had never been there before…

 

“You know,” James spoke as they walked, “Fainting like that. This guy might be even more of a princess than Klaus.”

 

“He fainted after 43 beers. If you didn’t have a country anymore, would you be able to do that?”

 

James didn’t answer. He didn’t have to because by that time they had reached the end of the narrow passage and swung open the door.

 

“Oh, lovely, you’ve got him!” Oliver’s voice resounded from the doorway as well as the agreements of the few others present.

 

“Yes, and, once his absence is noticed, then the true fun can begin.”


	2. Mistakes, Truth, and Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prussia was declared dead when in reality he was now stuck in another world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is written by both me (gdesertsand) and CodeVassie (she is from Fanfiction.net). This can be found in Fanfiction.net also under the name CodeAndSand.

**Chapter 2: Mistakes, Truth, Protection**

 

Germany knew that he was being hard on his brother but there were certain things now that Prussia could not do anymore. Now that his older brother had no land to represent anymore he was not welcomed to the meetings of any nations. Ludwig was enough to represent the whole Germany that was his name after all. He also knew that what the other nations said to his brother was painful but then Prussia should have learned a long time ago that his presence was not welcome.

 

He knew Prussia was really bored but what else could Germany do for him? There was nothing that he could think of. Why was it so hard for his brother to behave himself while Germany was gone?

 

Now Prussia was being stubborn again and had been missing for a week now. This was not a rare occurrence because most of the times that Prussia was irritated to Germany he would often go to one of his friend’s house.

 

For now, Germany would wait until his brother finally decided to come home again. That or if when someone called him and asked to get his annoying brother.

* * *

 

That was the initial plan but Germany lost track in time and it turned out two weeks already passed. He just realized this when Spain called him.

 

“Hola, Amigo! I just want to ask where Prussia is. I haven’t heard from him for the last two weeks.”

 

“What? I thought he was spending time with you guys.”

 

“Oh no! I have been tending to my tomatoes since harvest time was last week. I’m just surprised that Gilbert didn’t come by then to help me.”

 

“Um…Did you ask France already?”

 

“Si! He said He hadn’t heard of Gilbert for the last two weeks and asked me to call you instead!”

 

“I…I don’t know where my Bruder is right now.”

 

“Really? Oh! I’m going to ask the others then!”

 

“Please, and I will try to contact some also to ask if they had seen my Bruder.”

 

“Okay! Bye!”

 

After three days of receiving negative response from all the nations, Germany finally called for an emergency world meeting.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t see why we should hold a meeting for Prussia, aru.”

 

“What do you mean, China?”

 

It was chaos like any other meetings. The people who were not that really close or still see Prussia as enemy was not happy to be called about the missing former nation. For all they cared Prussia was just loitering around somewhere getting drunk.

 

“Well, it is really easy to assume that he finally faded. He had no land to represent anymore and everyone here admit that they didn’t feel Prussia within their boundaries.” England took a sip from his tea cup like any other normal day. The fading of Prussia was not a big deal for him.

 

“Maybe he only has a presence like a human now so we didn’t really feel him clearly if he was ever in our lands.”

 

“Sod off, Frog. You know that we can pinpoint our own citizens in just a few minutes. There was no way we could have missed him.”

 

“B-but…Prussia is still alive after all this years after his dissolution. It can’t be that he vanished just like that.” Spain tried to contradict the conclusion of most of the countries.

 

“It’s just natural,” Austria started, “I am actually surprised that it took this long for death to finally catch up with him.”

 

Everyone started giving two cents of their opinions about the topic of the emergency meeting. That was until someone slammed the table hard enough to cause some cracks that silenced everyone. They all tried to find the source of such noise and surprised to find out that it was Italy Romano. The Southern personification of Italy looked darker than anyone then. If someone back in the past jokes that none of the Italy brothers could look as menacing as Russia then they could never repeat that now, for the current moment contradicts what they believe as a normal attitude of Italy brothers.

 

Romano's glare made the whole room turned cold.

 

"You fucking bastards really pissed me off right now." Romano started as he leaned back on his chair and rest his feet above the table, "You're glad Prussia is finally gone? You're happy that he is no longer here to bother you? Aren't you just all plain cold hearted murderers?"

 

"Watch your mouth, Romano, I know you are a short tempered git but it does not give you a reason to label us with such a heavy accusation."

 

"Why? Don't want to face the painful truth?"

 

"Why you, wanker?!" England was about to punch Romano when France stopped him, "Gah! Let go of me you perverted frog!"

 

"Stop it, mon ami! You don't want Spain to go conquistador right now!"

 

"I want to hear what little Romano wants to say, da?"

 

"Heh, I'm not surprise that none of you self centered bastards realized it already."

 

"Stop dancing around the subject, Romano." Even Austria was annoyed at being called a murderer.

 

"We dissolve Prussia, we killed Prussia. It's just as simple as that. We murdered Prussia."

 

"Ahahaha! Now, now, Romano. I think you are thinking way too much about this. This is not the first time a nation faded away because of his lands." Turkey laughed it off as if the fading away of Prussia was just a normal thing.

 

"Was it? Did Prussia disappear like the Ancients?"

 

"Of course! That is the only way a nation dies!" England was getting fed up with this discussion that he considered as nonsense.

 

"Really?" Romano appeared nonchalant but his words weighed like a heavy ton metal, "Let's see... the main reason the Ancients faded away was because of two reasons. One, it was because of the invasions. Two, it was because we were born. The Ancients was weak enough to need another personification to handle their lands. It indeed completed the cycle of life and death for a nation." He took a deep sigh before continuing, "That was the normal way a nation could die. Now I have a couple of questions. Did Prussia had a new personification to signal that he was about to die? Was Prussia invaded enough to be weak to be in need of a new personification? There was none, right? Prussia was not supposed to die but because some idiots wanted to blame and point fingers to someone he was sentenced to death. We all acknowledged it. We are all responsible for it. We murdered him."

 

The room was stunned in silence once they processed what South Italy had said. Of course some people were not willing to admit it.

 

"Ahahaha! Dude! That's not funny you know? How can we be murderers? Killers are villains! We're the hero, I'm the hero!"

 

"I don't even think we should listen to, Romano, aru. He is just some coward nation anyway. I remember you are the one who surrendered to us for Italy, aru."

 

North Italy was about to defend his brother, they were wrong! His Fratello was not a coward at all! He may be always running in front of his enemies but that was because Romano liked to work unseen.  But Romano just snorted in response, as if he found what China said to be funny, "Of course you will say that." He stretched his shoulders then leaned forward. His fingers were intertwined together on the table and rest his chin above it.

 

"Let me ask another set of questions again then. Who do you think handles the mafia? Who do you think handles the dark side of wars that concerns our country? Veneziano? Huh! Don't make me laugh! Do you think my Fratellino could command an army for serious battle? Do you think he could handle all the bloodsheds? No, I was the one doing all the dirty works. I am the one who still governed all the mafia groups in our country. Veneziano is the peaceful side of Italy and as much as possible I want it to stay that way." With that he stormed out. North Italy followed his brother immediately without sparing the other nations a glance.

 

They could not believe what they just heard. South Italy, the rude and easily angered between the two, suddenly opened his heart a bit to everyone. That...that was absurd! Romano did not like his little brother! All of them could see that! Romano always pushed Italy away! South Italy always ran away and leaves his little brother in the hands of enemies. It was always Germany who rescues the Northern personification!

 

But then...Italy was always happy whenever his brother was with him.

 

Did they become too blind to see what was hidden under those layers of anger? Did they have the ability to see under one of the nations facade in the first place?

 

No...They only accept what they see.

 

"I guess this is what you call 'be careful to what you wish for', da?" Russia stated his opinion happily.

 

"T-that can't be right! I'm the hero!...I'm...I...I didn't...I didn't kill Prussia..."

 

No one agreed or disagreed to America. They were all scared to face the painful truth of their situation.

 

The truth that they just murdered one of their kinds.

 

A truth that Germany could not completely accept because if he did then it would only mean one thing, he was the reason why his older brother was already dead.

 

He was the main killer in this tragic story.

* * *

 

"Romano? Fratello? Are you okay?" Feliciano asked when the both of them finally settled on their hotel room. An hour already passed and during that time he prepared a cup of coffee for his older brother.

 

“What are you doing here, idiota?” Romano’s words became muffled because of the pillow. When he got himself safely in their room he didn’t waste time to lie down on his bed, his face pressed on the pillow to hide his embarrassment. He could not believe he just went on mafia mode back then! Romano really hates that part of him because it meant that his mouth has no filter to what he felt and how he saw the current situation. He hated it how he just openly admitted that he cared for his idiot of a brother. What was worse was that he admitted that he cared for the potato bastard number 2! What did Japan called him once?

 

Ah, a tsundere.

 

Romano shifted his head a bit to take a peek. He saw Veneziano sitting on his bed and just stared at him with open eyes. It’s not fair, how could his Fratellino have such beautiful eyes that could convey a lot of emotions but at the same time masked what he really feels.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be consoling the potato bastard right now? He might be crying like a baby.”

 

“Oh, Fratello, and here I thought you will start opening to me! Ve~”

 

“S-shut up, idiota!”

 

Feliciano just giggled which made his brother to turn red again in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Others thought that Romano was just the cowardly rude version of Italy. While that might be true, there were really a lot of stuff that most of the world do not know about them. Like how Feliciano could only learn from the mistakes of the past and Romano could make major decisions for the future.

 

Romano was a loving brother, he was just too shy to show it in a normal way. If one would care to listen then all insults that came from South Italy’s mouth had no venom in most occasions.

 

Feliciano started to comb Lovino’s hair using his fingers to sooth his brother, “Ve~ Fratello, why did you lie back there?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When you said that you are the dark side of Italy. You know that’s not true right?” Romano remained silent, “You know that there is no black and white right? What you said earlier can be applied also in reverse. I’m not as pure as you stated.”

 

For a while Lovino didn’t answer and Feliciano was about to drop the subject when a sob broke the silence. Feliciano was shock when Lovino suddenly engulfed him in an embrace. His older brother started staining his clothes with tears of sadness and frustrations.

 

“Damn it! T-they were right after all! I’m just a coward! A coward! I can’t even save my best friend! I’m too scared to die myself that I didn’t even make any attempt to stop his dissolution! I’m worthless!”

 

Feliciano just looked at his brother with sorrow in his eyes. He returned the hug and let the other to release all the pent up emotions.

 

“I’m sorry, Fratello…”

 

There was only one person, aside from Feliciano, who saw under all the layers of South Italy…and that was Prussia. The man who had his heart and body torn more that once was the same man who could understand all the struggles Lovino was suffering from. The only one who accepted Lovino as Lovino and not as Italy Romano.

 

They were best friends…

 

And now the other was already dead.

 

It was just like how Feliciano felt when the news about Holy Roman Empire reached him.

 

A pain enough to shatter ones heart.

* * *

 

_“It’s just natural, I am actually surprised that it took this long for death to finally catch up with him.”_

 

Roland tossed the mirror as hard as he could on the nearby wall. He was furious! He thought their counterparts would have some sense to feel sad on the disappearance of their Prussia, but no! They were fucking celebrating!

 

“Oh, it’s a good thing I recorded their conversations.” Vasska blew on the candle he was holding to illuminate his side of the circle.

 

“Why would you do that?” Loki asked as he did the same on his own candle.

 

“For future evidences!”

 

Despite being parallel to each other the two worlds had still some differences. One of its differences was the concept of time. The two weeks or so in that world was just two days and half to them. Yes, it was almost three days now since they took the other Prussia.

 

Roland took a deep breath to calm his nerves before a knock on the door was heard.

 

“Come in, dear~” Oliver called out to whomever was on the other side of the wooden door.

 

James poked his head on the small opening he made and said, “Our Princess is already awake. Luciano and Flavio was having fun with him.”

 

“What?! I can’t trust those two! I didn’t even trust Klaus to them, why would I trust them now!” with that Roland ran away to ‘save’ their guest from the disaster the Italian Brothers had in mind.

 

“I guess our job is over for now!” Vasska declared. He walked out followed by Loki. James was gone after he said his message.

 

“No fair,” Oliver puffed his cheeks, “They left me with all this mess.” He was referring to all the things scattered around the room when they were performing their spying on the other world. He sighed and searched for the broom and dustpan to clean the shattered glass. That was when he realized that the scene was still ongoing despite the mirror being destroyed. Taking hold of one of the bigger pieces, Oliver continued watching.

 

_"We dissolve Prussia, we killed Prussia. It's just as simple as that. We murdered Prussia."_

“Oh~ What do we have here? There is a little lion fighting for something~” he giggled again, “This will be fun~ I should share this to others later.”

 

* * *

 

When Prussia awoke his head was pounding. The first thing that came to mind was to groan in pain which was exactly what he did. “Worst… hangover…” He started to mumble to himself, sitting up so he could lean over and put his head between his knees, “ _Ever_ …” Honestly, how many beers did he have last night?

 

“He’s awake!” A voice almost sang from in front of him. Prussia’s eyes snapped open to behold the tinted ones before him, not five centimeters in front of him.

 

“Ah!” Prussia yelped, pushing away, causing his head to explode in pain and dizziness. He closed his eyes to will it all away but didn’t stay that way for long, afraid of the unfamiliar person in the room. Though, now that he looked around, Gilbert could see that the other occupant of the room was not the only unfamiliar thing in there. In fact, the room itself was completely new to the former nation. Prussia’s eyes darted around confusedly only to land back on the person in front of him.

 

“Sorry about that. We’ve been waiting for you to get up for _days_ now. Honestly, how long do you 1ps sleep for?” The man’s voice seemed almost familiar. Prussia could have sworn it sounded exactly like… No, but this man’s tone was much too charming and cheerful. The guy Prussia knew would have never sounded like that, even when he flirted with girls as him and his brother tended to do so often. “Oh, I’m sorry; let me introduce myself.” The man held out his hand and smiled with a smug grin, “I’m Flavio Vargas.”

 

Prussia looked at the hand then let his gaze wander up the man’s arm and to his face. The first thing he noticed were the pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. They were tinted purple and covered a good part of his tan face. He had an olive complexion but also seemed tanned on top of that as well. Then there was the man’s hair. Blonde. A shade completely unnatural to the face Gilbert now recognized, but, somehow, suited the person before him. The way he acted and talked and rested his hand against his cheek with his elbow in his other hand.  This man had his face, but that was the only resemblance to Italy Romano Prussia could find.

 

“What kind of joke is this, Romano? You changed your hair and now you’re calling yourself Flavio?” Prussia closed his eyes again, “You should know better than to mess with someone who’s hungover.”

 

Suddenly Prussia’s collar was yanked and his whole body was lifted into the air. The breath was knocked out of him and, with the fist and tight collar against his throat, he was struggling to get it back. “I am _not_ your Romano.” Prussia looked at the man who was pinning him against the wall and saw that his eyes had turned a dangerous shade of red. It was odd how he could see it through the severely tinted shades, but the blonde’s eyes were so bright that it was impossible to miss.

 

“Now, now, Flavio. He only called you Romano. We call you that too.” Another voice came from the door. Prussia recognized this one too. Only barely, though. He never would have imagined hearing that sweet and innocent voice twisted so menacingly.

 

“You know who he was calling me though. You know he thought I was that… that _Lovino_.” The Romano look-alike snarled, not loosening his grip in the slightest.

 

“Yes, he has plenty to learn.” The other voice spoke again, sending shivers down Prussia’s spine. Hearing his voice like that, it was just wrong. “Why don’t we teach him a few things of our own while we have the chance?”

 

Suddenly, Prussia’s body was released from the hold and dropped back down onto the bed he had been previously. The man - Flavio he had called himself - rushed to the other’s side. “Oh, but Luci, Roland won’t be very happy with that. He never let us near Klaus, after all.”

 

Prussia could now see the other man and was once again greeted with a familiar face contorted in an alien way. His hair was brown, though possibly slightly darker than the man Prussia knew. He wore a hat, a brown suit, and had red eyes, opened and rolling in annoyance at Flavio’s comment. There was something dark about this man. He didn’t frown nor did he smile. By looking at the man, though, Prussia felt that somehow it would be a disastrous occasion to see the man smile, despite the fact that Prussia had seen that face smile on many occasions before by the nation of North Italy.

 

“Flavio, have I ever given two shits about what Roland would be happy with?” Luciano asked, voice like a dull knife ready to be sharpened by only the slightest aggravation.

 

Flavio thought for a moment, “I suppose not.” He didn’t seemed phased in the least by his brother’s tone nor by the prospect of angering this Roland person, “And this _would_ really be our only chance…” The glint was returning to the blonde man’s eyes.

 

“Exactly. If he’s going to stay here he’s got to learn. We can start out with your favorite lesson, though it seems you’ve already went ahead and begun without me.” Luciano seemed annoyed.

 

“My favorite lesson… hmm, yes he should probably learn that…” Flavio was in thought, hand to his cheek again.

 

The other man rolled his eyes and stepped around his brother, pulling a knife out of his jacket. “I’ve heard you’re the Prussia of your world. Sounds fun; I don’t really care much one way or another. What I do care about is your world’s pain. I’ll settle on starting with yours though.”

 

“W- what? Hey, Feli, I never knew you were such a great actor.” Prussia gave a nervous laugh. “You can stop now, though.”

 

“Good. You’re ready to start your first lesson of our world.” Luciano got closer - close enough to hold the glinting knife against Gilbert’s cheek. “Rule number one,” Luciano leaned in close to whisper in Gilbert’s ear, “Don’t confuse us with your no good 1p friends.”

 

Then the first cut ran along Prussia’s flesh drawing a long red gash across skin.

* * *

 

James had caught up with Roland in the hallway in just a few strides, despite the man hurrying along, and kept pace with him along the corridor as he took this opportune moment to rush the conversation.

 

In the end, James had gotten the answer he had been out for and he turned and left down the same corridor they had just come to the end of. Roland was still on his way, mostly irritated, to save the Princess from the terrors known as the Italy brothers. It had been easy enough to convince Luciano to ‘teach’ this new member of their world some important lessons and in turn it had been easy for Luciano to convince his brother to help. The two _did_ love torture - more than anyone James knew - and, with the right words, Luciano could get his brother to do anything.

 

He would tell them as soon as he saw them again where they were all going. That would be after Roland got to them, but James had a few others to tell in the meantime. James sure was ready to get the ball rolling on this project and the first person he told was surely the one to make it all happen.

 

“Allen.” James said the name blandly as he approached the room he knew his brother would be in, knowing he would hear from a mile away.

 

Surely enough there his brother was, dark hair, red eyes, shades resting atop his head and dependable and rather unpredictable baseball bat leaning on the counter beside him. The room was trashed and James was sure the damage had be wrought by Allen himself. There were holes in the walls, a shattered glass coffee table in the center of the floor, and a shredded couch most likely the result of the rusty nails that protruded from that wooden bat. James wondered if it was normal for dried blood to look like rust. He’d have to check the next time he washed his hockey stick.

 

“James, wha’dya want?” Allen asked as he let the large blade of a butcher knife fall onto the sandwich he was making, cutting it into two little triangular pieces. “Here to steal my tofu? I made PB&J today, so piss off!”

 

James would have rolled his eyes if he had cared enough to. “Allen, let everyone know to get ready to go to the other world. I’m leaving in an hour and I won’t care enough to wait for anyone late.” And without another word James turned to leave. He had a word or two to speak with Oliver and so, leaving this to his brother, he went off toward the room he had last seen the pink-haired man.

 

“This is one thing, Allen.” James grumbled to himself as he walked down the hallway, “Don’t fuck it up.”

* * *

 

Roland barged into the room they had been keeping Gilbert and immediately his eyes fell upon the man. There were cuts running along his body in different places, along his cheek, his throat, his arms. None of them were deep enough to leave a scar even for the former nation, but the marks instantly had made Roland furious.

 

“What is this?” Roland yelled and three heads turned toward him still standing in the doorway. Luciano’s face had turned annoyed upon hearing the tense voice of the other nation and Flavio’s had changed from malicious to splendidly listening as he completely turned away from Prussia. Gilbert merely looked confused and perhaps a tad angry. “Who gave you two the right to lay a hand on him? We rescued him from that other world; did we not? You believe that was only to cause him suffering ourselves?”

 

“Sorry. It seems we’ve made a little mess of your boyfriend here.” Flavio flicked his hand in Prussia’s general direction. “I think he gets the idea though.”

 

Luciano twirled his knife between his fingers as he looked Roland fiercely in the eye. “We were just having fun.” Luciano leaned forward and whispered in Roland’s ear then, “You wouldn’t think twice about it if he didn’t look like Klaus.”

 

Roland roughly pushed the other away. No one talked about Klaus to him. _No one._ No one touched Klaus when he had still be alive. No one talked about him now that he was gone. Especially to him. Anyone knew that mention of Klaus anywhere near Roland was a one-way ticket to the nation’s fury.

 

“What. Did you.” Roland was clenching his teeth, a surge of protectiveness for the fallen nation rising up, “Just. Say. To me?”

 

The fire in Luciano’s eyes as he took in Roland’s reaction was plenty evidence to know that the Italy knew exactly what he had just said. The nasty smile that turned his lips was enough to make any weep in fear. To Roland, it was merely a challenge.

 

“My brother and I must be going. Have fun with your new toy.” And without taking his eyes from Roland’s, Luciano walked passed and out the door where the eye contact was forcibly broken. Flavio followed, giving a final charming smile each to the last two occupants of the room.

 

The room fell into silence and, after taking a breath to calm himself, Roland let his eyes fall on the other Prussia before him. He was looking over himself, inspecting his wounds and hissing as they stung. The other had whitish blonde hair, shorter than Klaus’ had been but more or less the same color. For a moment, Roland felt familiarity wash over him at seeing the similarities of this man to the one he had known. For that moment, Roland could pretend Klaus had never left him.

 

Then Gilbert’s head lifted, his red eyes piercing into his own violet ones, and the whole illusion was ended. This was not Klaus. It never could be. It was all in the eyes. Obviously, it wasn’t Klaus, what had Roland been thinking? For one thing, Klaus had blue eyes, soft with darker blues around. Klaus had been the only nation he had known whose eyes were never red. Even his own eyes changed red at times - most of those times during storms of protectiveness for the man - but Klaus’ eyes never changed. They were ever constant - always that unchanging blue.

 

Then, for another thing, Klaus’ eyes would have never held the emotions Roland was seeing in the red eyes before him. Confidence was the first thing that he thought. Gilbert had a level of confidence Klaus had never in all his years achieved. Actually, Gilbert’s outer confidence reached a level most people would not achieve. Roland had seen it for himself watching through that mirror all this time. He had seen him boast his “awesomeness” in an almost arrogant fashion many a-time. Roland also knew through his time of watching through the mirror that this self-importance Gilbert imposed on himself was just his outer shell.

 

Gilbert was not Klaus, but there would always be a shared trait between the two Prussia: Roland’s protection.

 

Roland was still watching the other’s face, noticing how his features tried to decide what costume they wanted to adorn. Anger? Confusion? Annoyance? In the end his face decided on its default expression, a look of arrogance in his smirk and minor raise of the chin. There was something else about his face that seemed different. He had never noticed it looking in on the other’s world but it was clear to Roland now and he wondered how he could have missed it. Gilbert did not have the same scar running along his right cheek that Klaus had had. There was a fresh bloody line across his other cheek but Roland knew it would heal in no time. It wouldn’t leave a reminder to Roland like Klaus’ scar had had.

 

Roland wasn’t sure whether to be relieved for this fact or disappointed. Roland had always despised that scar that Klaus wore on his cheek, cutting down from the bottom of his cheekbone to the top of his jaw line. It had only been a reminder of a time that Roland had not been there to protect the nation - of a time he had failed his friend.

 

But, now, seeing Prussia’s face without it… it just felt odd. Instead of being a reminder of what Roland had failed to do when Klaus was still a nation, the lack of it reminded him of what he had failed to do when Klaus’ nation had been dissolved. With or without the scar, it was always a reminder.

 

“Who’s gonna tell me what’s going on?” Gilbert’s voice cut through the silence, mouth in a slight frown as he looked at Roland with suspicion. This other Prussia’s expressions could change like lightning, another thing he had in common with Klaus. “Why do you look like Austria? You sure aren’t him; he would never wear something like that.”

 

Roland briefly glimpsed at his own attire before addressing Gilbert again, brushing away the apparent insult. He was wearing similar to what he always wore: red coat, black pants, a dark grey button up shirt. “I hope you didn’t mistake Flavio for your Romano. None of the nations here really appreciate being mistaken for their counterparts, but Flavio is particularly sensitive on the subject, I must say.”

 

“Thanks, but a little too late. They already gave me a makeover for my troubles.” Gilbert replied sarcastically, gesturing to the cuts along his flesh not yet showing signs of healing. Roland grimaced, ready to peel strips of skin off the Italy brothers - slowly, painfully - if they so much as came close to Prussia again.

 

“That will never happen again. I will ensure it. And, to answer your question, I look like Austria because I am him. I am the Austria of this world.” At Gilbert’s dumfounded expression Roland began to explain.

 

Prussia caught on relatively quick coming from a world where parallel worlds were things of myth and speculation. He asked questions and Roland answered each honestly. Roland thought it was going well - suspiciously well. And his unease was answered when at the end of their discussion Prussia laughed as if this was all a great joke that he was taking part in and voiced his final question.

 

“So when do I go home then?”

 

Roland narrowed his eyes and frowned. He had to be joking.

* * *

 

“Oliver, the portal?” The bored tone of a very impatient Canadian knocked against the door to Oliver’s noggin. Oliver giggled.

 

“Oh, James. A good boy is patient, remember?” James rolled his eyes and turned away but Oliver hadn’t given up yet. “Allen, you remember that rule, don’t you? Along with kindness and honesty and-”

 

“Oh, shut it, old man.”

 

Oliver hummed. “The older the wiser. Oh, but it _is_ terribly rude to ask a lady her age.”

 

“Alright everyone!” Allen interrupted Oliver. Oliver knew he didn’t mean to though; Allen got so excited at times. “Listen up! We are about to go to the 1p world. Do we have a concrete plan for what we are about to do? I think anyone of you assholes could answer that one. No. We go there. We fuck shit up. Who knows what other hells might occur. I don’t care who goes. I don’t care who stays. I don’t care who comes back. James, I’d rather you just stay over there.”

 

This was briefly interjected with a, “Fuck off.” Before Allen continued.

 

“I, for one, am going to find my hero-loving, animal-eating counterpart and sock him one straight to the jaw. My business, I know, but if anyone wants to watch follow ahead; I’m hoping it’ll get bloody. If you want to join the fight, though, you can fuck off. Find your own counterpart to beat the snot out of.” Allen tapped his bat against the ground and looked around at each person to make sure his message had gotten across. “Alright. That’s about it. Where’s that portal?”

 

Oliver had been too busy listening to Allen to remember that he was in charge of setting up the portal to the other world. “On its way, dear~” Oliver turned back to the sigils on the floor and the other supplies needed for the spell. “Vasska~” Oliver called to his friends, “Loki~”

 

They both turned their heads to the pink-haired man and nodded, ready to draw on their magic. Oliver’s eyebrows raised as his face lifted in excitement. “Alright, loves, let’s get this horse in the water!”

 

No one understood Oliver. No one even tried anymore.


	3. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are now going to visit their counterparts and give them a piece of their minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by CodeAndSand (gdesertsand and CodeVassie)

**Chapter 3: Chances**

 

"Are you kidding me?" Was the response of Roland after Gilbert asked his question, "Did you understand what I just told you or do you just not believe what I just said?"

 

Gilbert looked at him with seriousness. Most of the times the former nation might act like an idiot but there was no denying that Prussia was one of the greatest strategists in history especially when it came to wars. So there was no objection that Gilbert still retained the same intelligence after all those years. If not the same then there was more than before. Despite being an inactive personification he still tried to be updated on the changes happening in their world.

 

"I'm not joking here. I do believe you. Vati used to tell me about another world that mirrors ours. Vati also told me not to trust anyone from the other side of the mirror." Gilbert was about to say more but he moved the wrong way and agitated the wounded skin in the process. He gave a soft hiss of pain that Roland immediately caught onto.

 

Roland did not know the counterpart of Germania but if the theories were correct, about being opposites, then he could conclude that the 1P Germania was a cold and logical man compared to 2P Germania, who was a logical man also but usually wore his heart on his sleeve just like Klaus. Roland wanted to change Gilbert's mind but when the other Prussia started frowning from the pain the Italian brothers had caused, he stopped. Debating about the current topic could wait for later, right now he needed to wrap those wounds.

 

"I don't know what your Vati said about us but there is one thing that you should know. This is also one thing that you should believe." Roland looked straight into Gilbert's eyes with heavy honesty, "You can trust me. I will protect you. No one can lay a wrong hand on you. I will deal with the Italy brothers later. I promised you this will never happen again." He gently touched the hands of the other, "Let me tend to your wounds, okay?" He smiled with soft gentleness, "We don't want those to get infected and reduce your 'awesomeness', right?"

 

Some part of Gilbert was telling him not to trust the man before him. He had heard plenty of stories from Germania about the 2P world. At the same time though the aura of the Austria before him gave a vibe of warmth and protection, though somehow Gilbert also realized that it was a possessive type of protection. He knew he could not do anything for now. If this Austria was telling the truth about 'protecting' him then why not used it for his advantage. At least until he had a way to return home.

 

"Fine" Gilbert grumbled under his breath, "but only because I don't want my awesomeness to get lower!"

 

With this answer, Roland laughed. It was not a mocking laugh that Gilbert was used to receive. It was a laugh full of positive amusement.

 

"My name is Roland Edelstein by the way, I am the Personification of Austria in this world."

 

"I am the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt! The..." at this his voice faltered. Would it make a difference in this world? From the information he gathered from the Italian brothers, this world's Prussia did not exist anymore also. Before he could entertain the idea further though he shoved it away from his mind and tried to retain his awesome facade, "I'm the awesome Prussia!" He ended with fake enthusiasm.

 

"Oh, Prussia..." Roland uttered with hidden sympathy, "let me get the first aid kit. It will only take me a few minutes."

 

And a few minutes was all it took. Actually, Prussia thought that it was literally only a minute. He didn't realized that there was a door near the bed where he was lying. He only saw it when Roland entered that door, it turned out that it leads to the bathroom. Roland once again sat beside Gilbert and started applying antiseptic on his wounds.

 

"Would you mind taking off your shirt?"

 

Gilbert made an amused sound before answering, "It's already in tatters anyway."

 

"You're right," Roland took the shirt and tossed it on the ground, "don't worry, I will get you new clothes after this."

 

Prussia stared at Roland. This man was seriously not the Austria he knew. Austria was a cheapskate, so much that once Roderich saw that shirt he would start bitching around while sewing it. Then Roderich would make Prussia to wear it again.

 

Roland was different though. This man did not act like the prissy aristocrat. In fact, Roland did not mind getting dirty while he was tending on Prussia's wounds. It also seemed like Roland had more stamina compared to Roderich.

 

On the other hand, Roland was contemplating on how he could convince Gilbert to stay in their world. He carefully wrapped the gauze on Gilbert's chest and shoulders as he tried to think of the possible options. That was when he remembered that Vasska recorded the events from before. The magic circle that the Romanian used was connected to Roland's own circle thus gave him a chance to tap on it and replayed what happened.

 

"Gilbert?" He wanted to get the attention of the albino, "I know you are still wary of us but please trust me that I am only going to show you the truth and nothing but the truth."

 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

 

But Roland didn't answer instead he brought his closed fists on his mouth and started muttering words that Gilbert could not understand. It was a language that the albino knew nothing about. Once Roland was finished chanting his spell he opened his closed fists and let the ball of white light flew in front of them.

 

The light then became like a circular TV screen showing the emergency meeting from earlier.

 

Gilbert was happy to see this. West was planning to save him! He knew he could count on his little brother! He was really proud of West.

 

But this hope was short lived when the albino saw what happened next once the meeting officially started.

 

They were dismissing the idea of finding Gilbert. They all readily accepted that he was finally dead.

 

To them he was an abnormality they didn't want to associate with.

 

A persona formed from war from the start.

 

A personification without a nation after everything happened.

 

An annoyance that no one wanted to deal with.

 

A dead weight for everyone.

 

Prussia was no more...Gilbert was no more for them.

 

They were all happy that they finally got rid of him.

 

He was all alone, right from the start until the end.

 

Why was West not saying anything? Why his little brother did not made any protest to contradict most of the assumptions of the other nations? Did West not love him anymore? Why? He gave everything to his precious little brother. Prussia defended Germany when he was still a child. Prussia did everything to keep Germany alive. Even if it meant that he was going to have nothing once the war was over.

 

Why could not Germany do the same thing for him? For his older brother?

 

Roland noticed how Gilbert clutched the blanket with enough force to tear it apart.  He knew that it was cruel of him to show this to the fallen nation but Gilbert needed to understand that one of the purpose Roland and the others kidnapped him was to save him from those heartless imbeciles that he called family and friends. Those fools did not realize what they have. They didn’t know how lucky they were to have their own Prussia still alive and walking side by side among them.

 

Some people always take things for granted.

 

Gilbert on the other hand was slowly having a mental breakdown. He could take the things happened in the past just like…things happened in the past. When he was a child he was burned alive, drowned, tortured in different ways, all of this happened to him but he didn’t allow it to destroy his awesomeness. Gilbert knew that his albino appearance was one of the reasons why most of the nations, as well as some humans, looked down on him. But in time he managed to prove that he was strong just like any other empires. He managed to stand on his feet with pride hanging on his chest.

 

Gilbert knew the pain of love. He loved Fritz, his best friend and King. He loved Hungary. He loved Holy Roman Empire. He loved his Little Brother West…no…Germany. Everyone and everything he loved, he held dear inside his heart…it all ended for him giving up in misery.

 

To be displayed so proudly before his eyes on how people really felt about him…

 

This pain was worst compared to everything he ever had the luxury to experience. It burns his heart so much that all he wanted to do was to laugh it off.

 

Let him give in to the insanity of his mind.

 

The light had long ago dissipated and Roland let Gilbert to continue his manic laugh. The personification of Austria was about to envelope the other in a comforting hug when Gilbert gave him a harsh glare accompanied with an insane smirk that Roland was long ago accustomed to receive. Just not from someone who looked like Klaus.

 

“Hey, you told me you’re going to show me all the truth, right?” Gilbert clutched his blanket with death grip. He wanted to tear something apart. He wanted to hurt someone with his bare hands.

 

“What else do you want to know?” Roland hated to do this but he had no choice but to treat Gilbert like a wild animal right now. Each movement must be calculated to prevent unnecessary attacks.

 

“Fuck, everything!” Gilbert screamed, he was smiling but he might as well be crying from the tone he could not conceal, “From what I’ve heard your Prussia is already dead! I’m right, right?! So, what am I supposed to be? A replacement? You said you wanted to save me from those bastards but you’re just as cruel as them! Just kill me already!”

 

“Shut up!” Roland was horrified at what he heard. He needed to fix this or else Gilbert might be lost inside the maze of madness. He could not let that happen. He did not let it happened to Klaus and hell if he would allow Gilbert to wander on that dangerous road!

 

“Don’t deny it! You just missed your own Prussia that’s why you kidnapped me! No one really wants **me**! No one!”

 

“SHUT UP!” Roland engulfed him in a forceful hug which startled Gilbert from his self-loathing rants, “Please…don’t say such things…” Roland whispered that made Gilbert to flinch a bit from surprise.

 

“Maybe you are right, maybe you are not.” Roland continued to speak as he freed Gilbert from his embraced but firmly took hold of his shoulders, “I will not deny that I, as well as some of us, will see you as our Prussia. You two share the same soul making you the same person. But!” at this Roland looked at Gilbert with dead seriousness written in his eyes, “Some will also see you as who you are. **I _can_** also ** _see you_** as who you are.”

 

Roland released Gilbert’s shoulders only to take hold of his cheeks, “I hate to admit this but…we were envious.”

 

“Envious?”

 

“Ja, we were envious of your world. They had the chance to make some kinds of amends from dissolving you, they had the chance to ask for your forgiveness, and they had the chance to spend time with you. They had all the chances we did not have. They had all this chances that **we wanted** to have.” Roland bowed his head until it made contact with Gilbert’s chest. The next thing Gilbert knew the man before him was crying, “So why did they waste it? Why did they let their petty prides overwhelmed their judgments?” Roland circled his arms around the other’s waist, “Klaus was ripped away from us. You were not ripped away from them. We wanted to laugh and cry and scream with Klaus. They left you alone with your loneliness. We wanted to share many memories with Klaus. You always celebrate everything alone. So…so why…”

 

Roland choked from his own tears as he desperately tried to make sense on Gilbert.

 

“Why they have all this chances and we don’t?!” Roland looked at Gilbert with desperation, “I can’t promise you that we will not treat you like Klaus. But I can promise you that we will take care of you. **_I_** will take care of you. We might be psychotic, I do admit it, but all the pains we inflict are only physical. We do not hurt our own kind in here,” Roland pointed on Gilbert’s chest, “and here,” he tapped on Gilbert’s head, “to the point that we can’t repair it. For us, family and friends are important. We only fight because our people want it. So…please…please…Give us the chance to have you…”

 

All Gilbert could do was to return the embraced.

* * *

 

“What do you mean we will be on the second group?!” Luciano screamed when Roland said the details of their mission.

 

“It is just as simple as that,” Roland explained with boredom, “We can’t all just appear on the other side. It will upset the balance, which can kill us when it happens, and also they will detect us which in turn may foil our plans.”

 

When Oliver and the others already prepared the portal that would be used, Roland suddenly made his presence known and started listing the groups that would go first. It was a relief for Oliver that Roland chose the former Allies, along with Spain, and Belarus. If Roland didn’t chose James and Allen for the first group then all hell might break loose first before the mission could start.

 

Of course not everyone was happy.

 

“I told you Luci, Roland was not happy to what we’ve done to his boyfriend.” Flavio pouted, he too was a little bit angered that he would not be in the first group.

 

“Shut up, Flavio. You want to do it also.”

 

“Oh yeah…speaking of that,” at this Roland’s malicious aura seeped out from his body, “I’ve already planned out your punishments~”

 

“What did you two do this time?” Honestly, if the Italian brothers were the reason why the former Axis was not included in the first group then Japan would help Roland in punishing them.

 

“We painted his boyfriend’s body using the knife!” Flavio said cheerfully.

 

“Why did you say that to them, stupid Fratello?!”

 

“But that’s what really happened, right? Luci?”

 

Luciano repeated the words ‘idiot brother’ under his breath as he tried to cover his furious face using his hands.

 

“So!” Oliver tried to get the attention of everyone, “The first group will have: I, Allen, James, Francois, Viktor, Xiao, Andres, and Natasha?”

 

With this Roland nodded his head.

 

“The second group will include: Lutz, Luciano, Flavio, Kuro, Roland, and Erzsébet,…are you sure the rest of you don’t want to join?”

 

“No need! We can always enter the dreams of our counterparts. It was just you guys who wanted to carry the verdict physically.” Vasska answered for the rest of them.

 

“Well~ If that is what you want, loves~” Oliver giggled and completely opened the portal, “Shall the first group will go now?”

 

“Finally! I’m going to pound that hero-loving bastard into a pulp!”

 

“I need to knock some sense on my counterpart, don’t you dare interrupt me Allen.” James rest his hockey stick on his right shoulder.

 

“Very well! Let’s go!” with that the first group entered the other world leaving the rest behind.

 

“Now…” Roland turned his attention towards the Italian brothers, “Let’s talk about your punishments…”

* * *

 

The moment Allen stepped out of the portal he picked up the the scent. It wasn’t difficult. Aside from the overwhelming stench of greasy food and pollution, it was also natural for a nation to be able to track their counterpart. It was like when a nation could feel when another nation was in their borders, but this one felt more familiar. Familiar in a completely alien way of course. Ugh, did he have to think of aliens now? He hadn’t meant to, but now the thought of aliens reminded Allen of his idiot counterpart’s fascination with space and his little alien friend. Immediately, he was surged with the need to hit one right to the guy’s face.

 

Allen started to stalk away before anyone else had gotten their bearings. They had landed in the tight streets of a city and not a passerby had stopped to take notice. Sniffing the air, Allen knew they had landed in America - his home. Why did it smell so disgusting?

 

Allen held a grimace as he was made aware of a few following him as if he had taken some sort of lead. He thought about telling them to stop following him, lest they find a bat suddenly in their brains but remembered he had actually invited the group to watch his fight. He let out a sigh of frustration. Leave it to these dimwits to not understand that his invitation was actually an invitation to fuck off, but oh well. It wasn’t as if he really cared if they watched, as long as they didn’t get in his way.

 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t throw a few insults behind him at them. As he did so he spotted that there were two following him: Viktor and Xiao. Great; just what he needed. Allen hoped they would get bored soon and go wreck havoc in the streets or something.

 

When Allen turned back around he was greeted with a world of cotton candy blue and an unnaturally large grin. Normal people would have fallen back with a scream and an arm up to protect themselves. Allen wasn’t normal in any variety of the term. Allen had grown up with the man in front of him after all.

 

“Oliver.” Allen stopped and grumbled. “Get out of my way. I don’t have time for your games.”

 

“Allen dear, there’s always time to spend with your loved ones.” Oliver stepped backwards, put his hands behind his back, and balanced on his heels. “Won’t you let a broken doll accompany you?”

 

“Let me rephrase it then.” Allen’s grip on his bat tightened. “I don’t have the **_patience_** to deal with you.” Allen pushed passed and Oliver continued to follow. Allen looked behind him and noticed the other two stragglers had bolted. Those two were smarter than he had thought.

 

“Of course. You are a very busy man. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. You should come with me to find a bakery! I’m so happy to show these new people my special recipe!”

 

“Hell no, fuckface. Leave me alone and go feed them cannibal cupcakes by yourself.” Allen wasn’t particularly fond of sweets because of this reason. Receiving pink-frosted cupcakes dyed red with human blood or ones with poison laced sprinkles had Allen experiencing a taste aversion for anything remotely sweet. He didn’t know what Oliver’s problem was; he never had and he never will. He could only hope to avoid him as much as he could. “Go bother James. I doubt he’s doing anything other than checking this world’s NHL brackets.”

 

Oliver giggled. “Oh Allen, you and your brother are like two peas in a pod! You know each other so well!” Oliver was skipping as he followed. “James said that he’ll kill this world’s Canada if America is beating him~”

 

Allen snorted. “Probably with the kid’s own hockey stick.”

 

“Aw. I don’t see why you fellas act like you hate each other. You know everything about one another; you’re brothers after all. You love him. Just like you love me~”

 

Allen gagged. “No. Just no. Did I mention to fuck off, Oliver?”

 

Oliver nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you sure did!”

 

Allen huffed, knowing that the pink-haired man wouldn’t be shakeable until the man himself wanted to leave. Allen now started to ignore him.

 

* * *

 

James’ heart dropped as he looked through the brackets of the current season of hockey in the National Hockey League. Anger bubbled up in his chest and James was ready to rip someone in half. And he knew exactly who’s adorable fuckface it would be.

 

“I’ll teach this kid a lesson. No one ruins hockey. No one loses _my_ sport against _America._ ” A fire flashed in the normally dull eyes of the other Canada.

 

James’ target didn’t live too far away, being right next door to America and all, so James decided to walk. He had seen the cutesy face of his counterpart before. He looked like a child and he stayed too quiet when he had things to say. No one listened to him and no one even saw him. It disgusted James. How could a nation be so _weak_? So _ignored_? In their, world James most times talked about as much as this world’s Canada. When he spoke up, though, you were damn certain you were going to listen to him. No one ignored James.

 

To be honest, James had no clue where any of the others were. He didn’t give two shits about the others. James had his own business and they all did too. They could scurry off and do their own thing. No one was going to follow him.

 

No one had tried but James felt the glare he had given the group as he had parted had been an obvious hint. None were welcomed. This was James’ personal business.

 

It took no time at all to arrive at the front door of his counterpart. He did not feel the chilly air of his home through his flannel, having gotten used to it long ago. James wouldn’t bother knocking; it was a waste of his time. As soon he arrived at the door he planned to slam it open with his own boot, find the other’s beloved hockey gear, and make Matthew’s own hockey stick red with his blood. Red was the color of their flag after all; it is only suiting for the weaker counterpart to be covered in it.

 

Once James arrived at the door though, another sound emitted inside, one that made James stop for a moment before breaking down the door. Was that… yelling?

 

Rage boiled in James’ gut then and without a second thought he slammed his heel into the door, practically breaking it off its hinges. If someone had gotten to his counterpart before he had gotten the chance, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

 

“Allen,” Allen paused in surprise when he heard the soft, almost saddened voice of the nation following him, “Please, be careful.”

 

Allen turned to the man who had stopped in his tracks to examine the ground. Allen rolled his eyes and tilted his head in a look that said _Really, man?_

 

“What is this about, Oliver? God, you’re so bipolar!” Allen flung his arms in the air in exasperation and was even more surprised at the sternness in the voice of the reply.

 

“Allen, be nice.” Oliver then melted into his sickly sweet manner again. “My other has sensed our crossing over. He’s quite the smart cookie. He’s looking for me right now, so I thought that I might make us some tea! I’ll have to part with you now~” Oliver looked so happy. How did he do that? How could he act so damn happy all the time when Allen could never look that way? Sure, Allen smiled. It wasn’t a real smile though. Happiness at someone else’s misery wasn’t really happiness. Why couldn’t Allen ever smile unless he was causing pain and terror?

 

Allen shook his head. Because that’s what a villain did, was it not? He wasn’t like Alfred and his egotistic hero complex. He couldn’t feel happy for other’s joy, only for their pain. “Good riddance.” Allen turned and started to stalk away.

 

Behind him he heard Oliver repeat what he had said before, “Be careful.” And skipped away.

 

Allen didn’t need anyone. No, he was going to go beat up the one person who ticked him off the most. It would be the most fun he’d have in ages - the happiest he would have been in a while.

 

Because Allen’s happiness couldn’t be found anywhere else than others’ suffering.

* * *

 

_Won’t you let a broken doll accompany you?_

 

Oliver knew that was all he was. A broken doll. Something to be played with until it lost an arm or an eye or its mind. Oliver really was broken. It was easier to not let people see it so easily though. It made people scared when they saw how broken he was and it made Oliver sad when they saw. It was just another part of his brokenness that had him do this though. Would he be so happy if he was normal? Could he find pleasure in twisting on a grin or making his special cupcakes like he always did if he wasn’t a little broken doll? He loved doing those things… why should this doll be repaired then?

 

A doll was exactly what he looked like as he sat in one of the two high back chairs pushed up to the white tablecloth covered table, laden with a simple tea set and lovely desserts. A little music box was playing in the corner and Oliver was smiling sweetly as he added sugar to his tea.

 

“I do hope he arrives soon.” Oliver spoke to the empty room then looked down into the teacup and whispered, “The darling’s tea will get cold if he doesn’t.”

 

As if on cue, the door then burst open revealing the blonde shaggy hair and green eyes of Oliver’s counterpart. Oliver wasn’t looking toward the door though. He sat calmly, adding in spoonful after spoonful of sugar cubes to his cup. There was a moment of silence when Arthur realized his other self hadn’t reacted to his entrance - that and the stunning fact that his counterpart did indeed have pink hair.

 

Clearing his throat, Arthur moved forward, “So, here you are. You’ve been hiding from me, have you? I don’t blame you, but it was pointless. I can find you anywhere with my magic.”

 

Finally Oliver looked up, having ceased adding in sugar and stirring the copious amounts into his steaming tea. “Oh,” Oliver giggled, “I wasn’t hiding. I made us tea; would you like some?”

 

Arthur looked at the man as if he had gone crazy. Oliver was used to these looks from people, but he never took it to heart. “Please, sit!” Oliver offered brightly and in a flash the opposite chair had moved on its own to scoop up the other inhabitant of the room. “Do you take milk or sugar? Or both! I do love a nice cuppa with milk and sugar.”

 

Arthur looked towards the sugar bowl to find it completely full despite the ridiculous amounts Oliver had put in his own. It must have been enchanted… was everything here enchanted? And why was Oliver offering him tea?

 

Suddenly, Arthur had an idea. As Oliver passed him his own cup, full of plenty of milk and sugar despite Arthur not specifying how he would have actually liked it, Arthur cast a spell over the cup. Instantly, a blue liquid separated from the mixture and hovered above the cup.

 

“You tried to poison me!” Arthur accused, glaring at the other. The pink-haired man still had an endearing look on his face.

 

“Oh, do you not like it? I quite enjoy the taste though it does leave a horrid aftertaste. I also might be allergic to it because I feel a little nauseous after drinking my tea with it. It’s too good to stop drinking it though! I’m sorry; I should have asked if you liked poison in yours before I assumed.”

 

Arthur gawked at Oliver. Was he serious? Did this man actually drink poison? No, that would be absurd! He was trying to come up with an excuse for poisoning his drink! The bastard! Instead of yelling at Oliver though he decided on civil conversation. He didn’t want anything to get ugly yet.

 

“So, I believe you are my counterpart. My name’s Arthur,” Arthur didn’t offer his hand as he would normally do for introductions. Instead, he leaped straight into business, “Why have you and the others from your world come here?”

 

“I’m Oliver! It’s so nice to meet you, Arthur! I’ve seen you through the mirror before, so it is so very interesting to meet you in person.” Oliver held a tray of pink and blue frosted cupcakes and Arthur eyed them warily.

 

“Cupcake?” Oliver offered with a sparkle in his bright blue eyes.

* * *

 

The enraged screaming was not from a murderer inside the house. Neither was it from a frightened Canada fighting off some person that had broken into his home.

 

It was, in fact, the Canadian boy’s infuriated yelling at the TV in his living room, set to a channel James knew all too well. Upon James’ entry into the house, though, the yelling had come to a stop. Matthew was standing between his couch and coffee table, now staring openly in shock at the man who had broken into his house. It seemed as if all words had left him as well as the courage that could have rivaled no other that had just been directed at the losing hockey match on the screen.

 

“Oh, ugh, hi.” James waved awkwardly and somewhat taken aback. That had been Matthew that had been yelling? But it had sounded so angry. He had never seen his counterpart act like that in the mirror…

 

Then James’ eyes caught the score on the screen and rage flooded his system again. “We’re losing?” His yell was almost as enraged as the other’s, though this one sounded more like a barely controlled and deadly reaction. The other’s face immediately changed as well.

 

“I know! Those hosers call this hockey? I don’t think they even know how the hockey puck works! You hit it with the stick, moron!” Then an object was thrown at James and his instincts took over, catching whatever it was. At first he was on edge, but then he was plain confused. He was holding a brown bottle. A beer?

 

“You gonna watch the game?” Matthew asked him, intently keeping his eyes on the screen. This was no way the Canada James had seen before. Why was he letting a complete stranger into his house? Why wasn’t he more concerned that he had just broken down his door and yelled at his TV?

 

The it hit him. He had been reading Matthew all wrong. Perhaps he was mad that this Canada was losing hockey to America but if _he_ was mad, this Canada was furious. James smirked before popping open his beer and moving to see the screen next to Matthew. He wondered if Matthew could even sense something amiss about him yet…

 

Either way, James now knew this nation knew the true spirit of hockey.

* * *

 

“Do you really think you could punish us, Roland? You’re more delusional than I thought!” Luciano’s cackling was the response to Roland’s threat and the man watching rolled his eyes.

 

“And do you, Luciano, really think I would let you get away with hurting Gilbert like that? You should know from before that there are serious consequences from laying a single finger on Prussia.”

 

“I’d like to see you try to hurt us this time! Sure, you’re protective of any Prussia you can find, but we both know the only Prussia you truly care for is long gone.” Luciano felt a satisfaction through his bones as a dangerous fire burned in Roland’s eyes. In an instant, Roland lunged for Luciano who cleverly dodged, whipping out his knife and standing in a fighting stance across the room. A wicked smile adorned his face.

 

“Come on, Roland. Is that all you’ve got?” Luciano ducked under the next attack and cut across the Austrian’s abdomen. In a flash, Roland had him pinned against a wall, much to Luciano’s amusement. The hand that was holding the knife was restrained by Roland’s own.

 

“Oh, so this is where you get feisty. Can’t have a real fight unless you’re playing the knight in shining armor routine?” The challenge was greeted with a punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of the Italian. Despite this, Luciano didn’t seem phased other than a slight abnormality in breathing.

 

Then Luciano flicked the wrist of the hand Roland had pinned down, throwing the knife which knicked Roland’s ear in passing. Luciano let out an annoyed huff as his eyes followed the knife across the room. “That very well isn’t the satisfactory amount of blood I was looking for.” Roland grabbed Luciano by the hair and slammed his head hard against the wall, sending stars through his vision.

 

“This is what happens when you hurt Gilbert.” A punch upside the chin threw his head back once again. “That’s what you get for even touching him.” A knee to an area that Luciano would have preferred gone off limits had him bending over in agony. “And that’s what you get for daring to even look at him. Are you getting the message now?”

 

Roland had taken a single step back from the nation who was now bending over to protect himself from further damage. A smug grin adorned the Austrian’s face until Luciano finally looked up.

 

He was laughing. Why was he laughing? “Idiot. You think laughing will do you any good now? I’ve won. Your punishment is over; you can leave and take your other oafs to terrorize the 1p world.”

 

Luciano was still laughing when Roland looked around the room for the other Italian. He wasn’t there. Damn bastard must have snuck out while he was dealing with Luciano!

 

“And tell your brother I’ll get him next.” Roland crossed his arms as he watched Luciano straighten up.

 

“Oh, I’ll make sure to tell him that you still wish to punish him. I’m afraid, though, that he won’t be the next to be punished.” Luciano was now looking past Roland at the door. When Roland turned he saw what appeared to be the entirety of the second group. Lutz, Kuro, and Flavio front and center. The only one that seemed to be missing was Erzsébet. Where had she gone…

 

“You see, Roland, not all of us blindly follow your orders, especially when you’ve been MIA for so long. What was it you were doing again? Oh, that’s right; moaning and groaning over the loss of your precious _Klaus_.” Roland’s eyes flamed again at hearing the name from Luciano’s tainted mouth. “So when you came crawling back to the meetings, what sort of respect did you think you would get? Did you really believe we would all just accept to go get this other Prussia so readily?” Luciano laughed and strode across the room to retrieve his knife. “I’m tired of you, Roland. All of us are. Though I _am_ glad that you finally rescued this poor dear Prussia from his world. Not only did this give us an excuse to invade that world and terrorize its people,” Luciano paused to flip his knife in the air and catch it. Then the knife was at Roland’s throat. “It also gave us something to hurt you with. To make you pay. You care about this Gilbert, so we’re going to use that to our advantage.”

 

Roland’s stomach dropped. “You will not touch a hair on his head. You will not hurt Gilbert.”

 

Luciano smiled maliciously. “I suppose we’ll have to see about that.” The red in his eyes gleamed. At that moment, Luciano was the most murderous Roland had seen in awhile.

 

And Roland was scared for it.


	4. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One by one, bit by bit, the day will come where Gilbert should live or die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CV: Hello! So sorry this chapter took forever to post; I’m afraid that’s my fault. It took me over a month to write my half. Ugh, I know, disgraceful. I’ll try not to do it again, but, with school in full swing, I will not promise such a thing. Hopefully, it will not be over a month again though. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and sticking with this story; we really appreciate it! See ya next time!
> 
> GDS: Well! Same thing goes for me! I will not be able to write that much also because school is burying me with works! I have a lot of tests to study for in just one month! But don’t worry, we will not abandon this story!
> 
> Visit us also in our tumblr account: codeandsandshenanigans
> 
> Disclaimer: We don’t own Hetalia

**Chapter 4: Decisions**

_“Stay here for a while. I’ll be back soon; I just need to attend on certain matters right now.”_

As if someone like Gilbert, the former nation of Prussia, would listen to that Austrian. He might be in an emotional turmoil right now but it did not mean he was not in the right mind to start his rebellious attitude. And adding to the things he wanted to complain, why was this building where he was being held did not have any guards or maids or simply anyone? For the past hour he was walking around he did not meet any other living being. He didn’t even saw a tiny mouse!

On top of it, he was clearly lost.

Grumbling about his current misfortunes he turned around another corner. He just didn’t expect what he saw. For the person right in front of him, wearing such a sickening sweet feminine smile, was this world’s version of Hungary. From Gilbert’s meeting with the Italy brothers and Austria, he now kept in mind that everyone in this world was the opposite from the one he came from.

And what an accurate theory that was.

The Hungary in front of him was not the tomboy he knew. Not at all. This woman before him was wearing a frilly pink dress that even Lizzy would not wear such a thing for it would reduce her chances of mobility (and chasing after Gilbert).

“Hello! My name is Erzsébet Héderváry, also known as Hungary! You can call me Erzsébet if you want!” she placed both of her hands behind, body bent forward a bit, and her head was tilted to the side as she introduced herself. Her hair tied in a high ponytail swayed from her actions.

“Er…Um…” Gilbert could not deal with girls! The only reason he was close to Elizabeta was because he grew up with her knowing that she was a he! And when Gilbert realized the truth it was too late for his mind to start treating Elizabeta as a girl in some degree.

“Oh! Are you shy? You’re just like Klaus!” Erzsébet clapped her hands together in glee.

“No! I’m just…I…My name is Gilbert Beilscmidt!”

“Excellent! Nice to meet you!”

So far this version of Hungary was not showing any signs of hostility. But then from what he learned so far, the people in this world could change their attitude in just a drop of pin. He was thinking of possible escapes that he did not realize that she approached him not until his stomach decided to make its presence known.

Gilbert was startled from the noise he made and blushed in embarrassment. Hungary, in the middle of getting near to the other Prussia, blinked in surprise before breaking in a wild smile and started jumping from where she stood.

“You’re hungry? Why didn’t you say so? Come! Come follow me, I’ll cook something for you!”

He didn’t even have a choice in the matter for she grabbed him right wrist and started dragging him to whatever place she had in mind. Now he was thinking if he should have waited for Roland in his room just like what he was told so from the start.

* * *

 

So far Erzsébet was proving to be a good company. For the time they both spend in the kitchen all she did after cooking for him was to chat. She asked what kind of world Gilbert lived in, about his history, his friends and family and honestly, just everything that related to Gilbert. She listened to him with rapt attention and laughed at the right moments and frown in some. If necessary, she would start commenting about how horrible people had been on him.

“Hey, how come you don’t hate me?” Gilbert was really freaked out by how this woman was being too friendly to him. Especially if that person had the same face as the Hungary he grew up with.

“What do you mean?” Erzsébet blinked in surprise from the question thrown at her.

“Well…the Italians said—” he didn’t manage to finish his sentence when Erzsébet started laughing. Like a proper lady also which was weird for Gilbert.

“Oh, if I were you, I will not believe half of what those two says.”

“Huh?”

Erzsébet leaned on the table. Her hands cradling her own cheeks, “Luciano…well, to put it simply, he is a child that likes to pick fights but useless once the battle got real.” She started twirling her hair that was a lighter shade of brown compared to Elizabeta, around her fingers, “Flavio sometimes just wants to indulge his little brother’s antics. Some of us could care less if you are here.”

“Woman, that was harsh.” Gilbert put a hand above his chest in mock hurt making Erzsébet giggled towards his actions.

“To be honest I was planning to kill you once I saw you.”

“You said you don’t hate me!”

“But then I saw your eyes.” Erzsébet continued like she was just stating the weather.

At this Gilbert was dumbfounded. His eyes? For all his life his eye color brought him nothing but misfortune. Was this world that twisted that all his bad luck caused by his albinism was turning into good ones?

In Erzsébet’s case she was really intending to kill the Prussia they had kidnapped. For her it was unfair. Everything was unfair no matter which angle she looked at on their situation. It was unfair that their Klaus died. She and Klaus were really good friends. That was as long as Roland was not there to ruin their time together. The only reason why Erzsébet had enough patience dealing with Roland was due to practice that she mastered during their Empire days where they had no choice but to be in presence of one another.

It was unfair that their counterpart still had their own living Prussia and not being squashed by heavy guilt.

It was unfair for Gilbert because despite surviving his dissolution no one appreciates him. It was also unfair for him to be in the 2P world as a replacement for Klaus’ presence. So to save Gilbert from so many heartaches to come she decided to finish him.

But her plan changed the moment she took a look at those crimson eyes of his. It was a different shade from the ones she used to see but it still spoke the same volumes of sorrows and heartaches.

Klaus’ always show how he felt about something that was why everyone knew whenever their Prussia started to wallow in his bouts of depression. Roland would start making funny dances just to cheer up his best friend. Erzsébet would bake a lot of sweets that could give someone a toothache. Lutz would start singing so loud Klaus would have no choice but to acknowledge the situation before him, when this happened his Lutz would always pester his brother to join him. Luciano and Flavio were really closed to Klaus so and they did not like to see the albino sad, so they would always asked him to join them in their pranks against other countries. But then this would always change when the decisions of their people started to affect their friendly relationships. Erzsébet could still remember Klaus’ face painted with betrayal during the Seven Years of War.

Gilbert on the other hand stayed as strong as he could. He stood on his own two feet and did not made any deep connections with other countries. The only people Gilbert trusted with all his heart was his precious King, Holy Roman Empire, and his Little Brother Germany. Gilbert hid all his pains and wore a mask of arrogance. He never allowed others to see who he really was. This was the reason why most of the countries of his world saw him as a villain to be subdued.

No one really saw Gilbert at his worst moments. No one saw him crying his heart out whenever someone close to him died. No one saw him when his mind started crumbling to pieces. No one heard his screams when he was officially dissolved.

Erzsébet saw all of these from Gilbert’s crimson eyes. She was also sure that the others saw it too. Maybe this was one of the reasons why Lutz agreed to Roland. Their Germany wanted to make things right for Prussia.

If Gilbert would stay under their care then he would never had to continue wearing his mask. Erzsébet would make sure that Gilbert would be happy with them from now on.

She just needed to drill some lessons inside the Italian Brothers’ heads.

“So! I like your eyes and decided that I should keep you alive!” she lamely explained. She did not want to spill all the dramas in one go right now.

“I’m not some kind of pet or a doll!”

“GIIILLLLBBBEEERRRTTT!!!!” the scream was heard after Gilbert made his exclamation. It was so loud that he would never admit that he jumped a bit in surprise. Erzsébet on the other hand and muttered under her breath some chosen Hungarian curses.

“Gilbert!” the door was slammed open with so much forced that it left cracks on the walls. From there they saw a disheveled Roland who was panting in an attempt to catch his breath. It seemed like the Austrian was running all the way from where he came from, “You!” Roland pointed at Erzsébet, “What the hell do you think you are doing to my Precious Gilbert, you demon!”

“What did you call me?!”

“I’m not your ‘Precious’! This is not Lord of the Rings!”

But Gilbert’s protest had fallen in deaf ears because Roland and Erzsébet started arguing. It was a sight that he would never be accustomed in seeing. Really, it was weird to see someone who looked like Roderich and Elizaveta arguing, especially when those two were now fighting with their hands. Erzsébet was attempting to choke Roland while the other was trying to grab a fistful of her hair to pull.

The situation was really awkward for Gilbert. He did not know what to do right now. Should he stay or flee while the two were distracted?

Well, someone made the decision for him when he heard someone trying to get his attention. Looking back on the door he saw a copy of Germany and Japan. The two were hiding but motioned for him to join them. Tiptoeing away from the fight, Gilbert managed to get out of the room and run along with ‘Japan’ and ‘Germany’. When they were a safe distance away ‘Japan’ suddenly broke out in a fitful of laughter.

“I-I can’t really get used in seeing those two lose their composure whenever they see one another! Ahahaha! They are so hilarious to watch!” Gilbert feared that the counterpart of Japan would die through lost of air because of laughter.

“Kuro, stop laughing already.”

“Why? I’ll do what I want to do!”

“And you started acting like a child again.”

“Lutz! I’m just joining you because I want to piss off Luciano but if you will be such a bastard then I will just have this ‘Prussia’ all on my own!” Kuro, as what he heard Germany’s counterpart called the Japanese man, latched on Gilbert’s right arm and puffed his cheeks like a squirrel stocking foods for winter.

“I don’t have time to deal with your childish actions, Kuro.”

“Hmmph!” Kuro just tightened his grip on Gilbert’s arm.

“Can anyone explain to the awesome me what is happening right now?!”

“Oh! That’s easy!” Kuro finally released his captive, “My name is Kuro Honda! I’m this world’s Japan! I will be your ally because I want to piss of Luciano!”

“I’m Lutz Beilschmidt, I’m this world’s Germany. I’m also the younger brother of this world’s Prussia.”

“Yeah, I get most of what you said. But what’s with this ‘ally’ business that this guy,” he pointed towards Kuro, “keeps talking about?”

“Well! Of course you will be needing people that will protect you! After all,” Kuro clapped his hands and showed his sadistic smile on his face, “Luciano and Flavio wants you dead. As someone who hates the Italian Brothers it’s my duty to foil their plans!”

Just what kind of mess Gilbert got himself into? And to think that this was a trouble he didn’t initiate in the first place!

* * *

 

_*Two hours before*_

Roland held Luciano’s dark eyes with his own, refusing to let his fear shine through. His emotions were mixed in a hurricane-like swirl in his stomach at the moment but the only one he let show on his face was the pure rage the Italian had invoked in him. Luciano _would not_ lay a finger on Prussia. Over his dead body. Over his fallen and ruined nation.

But what Luciano had said had made sense in some stupid way that Roland had overlooked which angered him even more. Of course not everyone would jump on the bandwagon when he had come out of seclusion to pitch his (what the other nations might have called) absurd plan. Why had Luciano and Flavio and the other nations who had been standing at the door agreed at first if they weren’t going to go through with it? Was it to torture the 1P world? Was it to torture Gilbert, the only living Prussia in any and all other universes they knew of? Was it to torture Roland himself for shutting himself away for all of these years?

Roland didn’t know the motivations behind these nations’ cruel eyes but he found didn’t fucking care. They had said they were going to hurt Prussia. Hell, they already had hurt him. They were going to pay for that.

“I will rip you limb from bloody limb for this.” Roland threatened through bared teeth, skin pressing against the knife at his throat as he spoke, “You will never hurt him again.”

Luciano’s sneer sickened Roland. He smiled as if he had already won. He had no idea. “I guess we’ll see about that. Nice dreams, Austria.”

And with those words, Luciano drew his knife deeper, slicing the sensitive skin below his jaw until Roland could see no more. The pain that had erupted from the cut was blinding. His neck was now wet and warm, but he could not see it. Only darkness surrounded him as he heard Luciano depart with dark laughter.

_And they say **I’m** cliche._ Was his last thought before he blacked out.

* * *

 

When Roland woke he was in a panic. A simple slit throat wasn’t much to a nation, yet he had been asleep and healing for over an hour. Who knows what Luciano could have done in that time.

So Roland bolted. He didn’t stop until he had searched everywhere, finally finding Gilbert in the kitchen, in the company of an individual he despised. He knew the she-demon must have been in cahoots with the Italians. She would do anything to get under his skin! So immediately he had aimed to take her out. It wasn’t all that odd; anytime he saw Erzsébet it was exactly what he did. Or, if she saw him first, what she did. They couldn’t see each other without fighting.

Then Roland noticed Gilbert sneaking away. _Good._ He thought. _He can get away somewhere to safety. As long as he doesn’t run into the Italians or-_

His thoughts cut off precisely then. It was when he saw who Gilbert was speaking to that Erzsébet punched him in the gut, sending him across the room. Now all that lay in his field of vision was a light brown ponytail, bouncing behind the fair face of someone who did not look at all happy to see him. Oh right, that was Erzsébet. Sigh. He really didn’t have time for this now that he saw his Prussia in even more trouble.

He smacked Erzsébet away as she lunged towards him again, a new vigor in his strength as another layer of protection coated his actions. He rushed over to the three right outside the kitchen door, readying himself to send the two near Gilbert away with force when Gilbert stepped between them.

“Yo, Roland! Watch out; you almost hurled straight into Lutz and Kuro!” Gilbert held his hands up as Roland continued to watch the smug face of Kuro and the blank one of Lutz behind him.

“They are going to hurt you, Gilbert. They are working with Luciano and Flavio!” Roland attempted to sidestep around Gilbert but the other stepped with him, refusing to let Roland through.

“Hahaha!” The loud laughter of Japan interrupted him, “Work with Luciano? As if!”

“Don’t play innocent, Kuro!” Roland spat, still attempting (and failing) to get to the two nations behind Prussia, “I saw you two with Flavio at the door before Luciano slit my throat!”

Gilbert’s eyes widened, noticing the bloody line along Roland’s throat for the first time. “Wait. Wh-” But before he could finish Kuro was yelling at Roland again.

“I don’t work with Luciano, Roland! Yeah, sure, I didn’t stop him from slicing your damn throat; who the fuck cares if you get a little scar for a month or two?” Kuro said, “Like hell if I’m going to let him have the satisfaction of hurting this guy, though. I’ve never been ‘buddy-buddy’ with Prussia, Klaus _or_ Gilbert, but if it means pissing Luciano off then I’d rather be on his side.” Kuro pointed a thumb towards Gilbert, indicating whose side he was referring to.

Roland still wasn’t convinced, settling in a fighting stance, but he turned to Lutz instead. “And you?”

Lutz looked up. “Well, Prussia’s my brother. I should protect him.”

“And Luciano? The last time I checked, that guy was your best friend.” Roland pointed out. “Are you really going against him?”

Lutz nodded. “If it means protecting my brother.”

A silence settled over the group. Roland eyed the two warily, Kuro sneered a little in his direction, and Lutz remained emotionless. Then Gilbert spoke up.

“Um, not to burst anyone’s bubble, but I’m not actually your Prussia.” When he made eye-contact with Roland though, he clarified by turning to Lutz, “I’m not actually your brother, I mean.”

“You are my brother.” Lutz said simply, “Just the same person from a different reality.”

Roland noticed Gilbert smile a bit and remembered seeing through the mirror into the 1P world how much Gilbert cared about his little brother. It made him think for a second. _What if he doesn’t even want to stay? What if he wants to go back to his world with the people he loves only to continue feeling unloved?_

Roland couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Besides,” Lutz spoke up again, “Luciano is only feeling hurt right now. He would never forgive himself if he did end up hurting Prussia.”

“Well, we can’t really wait for little Luci’s temper tantrum to subside, now can we? Gilbert’s life is at stake!” Roland spoke fire in his words, angry that Lutz would still defend Luciano after attacking Gilbert.

“The point is,” Kuro spoke up, giving Lutz an evil-eye too, but slightly more annoyed than anything as if he had been putting up with this for a while, “We’re protecting Prussia just like you.”

“So,” Gilbert spoke up, addressing everyone there, “We’ve got five people on the awesome Team Gilbert and at least two against it right now. Do we know anyone else who might want to cut off my head or want to help keep it attached because either information is probably useful at the moment.”

“Five?” Roland asked, counting the people in the group at the moment. Gilbert, Kuro, Lutz, himself. That was four. “Who’s the fifth?”

“Erzsébet.” Gilbert said simply, gesturing to the door that led back into the kitchen.

“Oh.” Roland said with a frown on his face. He wasn’t so sure about that but… “Everyone else is in the 1P world as we speak, so, no, we do not have anyone else to worry about.”

Gilbert’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You mean _my_ world? What are they all doing there?”

Roland realized that telling Gilbert that he had sent many of the 2P world’s most blood thirsty nations into his world to hunt down a good few of the countries there might not have been a good conversation at the moment. Luckily (or very unlikely), that was when Erzsébet attacked Roland again with a screech of, “I wasn’t done with you!”

After being tackled and sent to the floor, Roland looked up into Gilbert’s baffled and slightly amused eyes and said, “If you’d excuse me; it seems I have something to take care of first.” Then he sprang to his feet and continued his fight with the she-demon.

* * *

 

Luciano still examined his blood drenched knife. Roland must have awoken by now, frantically searching for his precious _Gilbert_. That damn 1P, knockoff version of Prussia. What had it been that James had called him? Oh yeah, Roland’s _Princess._  

Well that Princess was safe for now. He wouldn’t be for long, though. Who did Roland think he was for bringing him here? For proposing such a thing? Who was this Gilbert to even pretend to be Prussia? He wasn’t and never would be Prussia even if he technically was from another universe. He could never replace Klaus.

Roland thought he was the only one who was ever close to Klaus. The selfish bastard. Luciano and Flavio had known Klaus before Roland had ever started pretending to be his knight in shining armor. They had been close to Klaus when they were small children and Klaus had visited them at Roland’s estate. In those days Roland had barely noticed him. It was only as Klaus visited the Italian brothers and his little brother, Holy Rome, more and more that Roland had finally begun to notice him.

Roland had had nothing more than an obsession for protecting Klaus and now that Klaus was gone he thought he could simply be replaced with this other version of him. A _cheap_ version of him. And he’d had the entire conference of nations wrapped around his finger at the prospect of quenching their guilt with protecting this new Prussia. He could be the knight in shining armor again and everyone else could have their redemption in bringing tyranny to those who had left this other Prussia feeling unloved.

And, like a fool, Luciano had agreed with them. Anything. Luciano would have done _anything_ to have Prussia back. He had wanted his guilt to leave him. He had wanted his friend back. He had wanted to see the face of the person who had made many of his years worthwhile and whom he had ignored for many other years simply because he was jealous he had spent all of his time with Roland instead. But it wasn’t just Prussia Luciano had wanted back. He had realized this only too late. Only when they had already taken Gilbert and it couldn’t be undone. No, Luciano wanted _Klaus_ back.

His guilt would never fade and his friend would never return, but he could do this at least. He could hurt the imposter who dared try to take his place. He could hurt Roland for taking his friend and after even all that time, for trying to replace him.

Luciano gazed over his knife and across the room. His brother lounged in a high back chair as he slept. He would be pissed when he woke up having a crick in his neck and creases in his clothes. Luciano wouldn’t wake him just for that. Instead, he remembered the day Prussia had officially dissolved. His brother had fallen asleep in his clothes after that meeting. Sleep was always Flavio’s way of coping with things. This was another reason Luciano envied his brother. He wished he had it that easy.

Instead he had bandaged his hand which he had gripped so tightly during the dissolution that blood had flowed from where his nails had bit into skin. He had watched indifferently and returned home the same as any other day. He had rolled his eyes at his brother’s bawling and retreated into his room to stare blankly at his desk for the  remainder of the day. Only when it had grown dark outside had he remembered to go bandage his hand. And after that he had thought that he had might as well go see if his useless brother was stilling crying his heart out.

That was when he had found his brother curled up on one of the armchairs in their family room, hair disheveled, clothing creased, neck lolled to the side, and mouth hanging open. Luciano had almost grinned at the sight, imagining what his brother’s reaction would be in the morning. He didn’t though. Instead Luciano started a fire in the fireplace next to that chair and took a seat on the sofa on the other side of the hearth.

He laid down, positioning himself to have a much better sleep than his brother. In the end, Luciano knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, though.

Luciano blinked back into the present, eyes still trained on his brother. That night he _had_ gotten sleep. He hadn’t even realized how tired he had been. In the morning he was in even more a bad mood than his brother. That was surely saying something when Flavio had woken up to an aching neck, a dry mouth, messy hair and clothes, and the renewed realization that Klaus was gone. For Luciano that last fact was all that did it for him.

He felt guilt and pain and loss and and and… Luciano had wanted his heart to numb like it had on so many other occasions. He didn’t want to feel anything. He would trade it all for the emptiness he’d had before the dissolution.

But the pain wouldn’t go away and the guilt wouldn’t stop reminding him of how he had treated Klaus over the years. Instead he had channeled his pain into hatred toward one person, the one person he felt deserved it the most. And now he could think of no other he could have picked better for his hatred.

Luciano _burned_ with hatred towards Roland. He had since the dissolution. He had even before then. He had hated Roland since he had met him. He had hated him when he had taken his friend from him. Now there was only one thing to do left.

Luciano was going to hurt Roland’s _Princess_ until his shining armor rusted and he finally understood what it was like to lose someone he cared for.

Because losing Klaus sure as hell hadn’t taught him that lesson.


	5. Life's Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Project: Keep the Awesome Gilbert alive. And a look in the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CV: Mwahaha! Lookie lookie! Less than a month. Booyah! We’re on fire, Sand! Hope you guys like it. Until next time~
> 
> GDS: Here is the link of the song (Credits to the rightful owner!) (1) https: // www. youtube. com/ watch?v=HlcTvRPY_4c  
> Oh, and don’t ask me, I don’t know what Code have in mind about Flavio.
> 
> CodeAndSand: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows~ we really appreciate it!

**Chapter 5: Life's Questions**

 

Kuro was laughing and Gilbert could not help himself but to stifle his laughs also as he covered Roland's wounds with fresh bandages while Lutz was the one fixing the wounds of Erzébet. Kuro was just watching and laughing as he saw the immortal rivals sulk without looking at one another.

 

It was really a funny scene, Gilbert must admit this. Erzébet and Roland were both a loose cannon when he watched them fight each other. Roland didn't even hold back on his kicks and punches despite having a woman as an enemy! If it was Roderich then Gilbert knew the Austrian from his world would not hold a candle against Erzébet. And if there would be a chance of Roderich getting in harm’s way then Gilbert was pretty sure Elizaveta would be there as a backup. Now that would be some fight, or as what others call it: a cat fight.

 

"Honestly, you two will never stop amusing me. I mean, Hungary always acted so feminine but she loses it whenever Austria is around! And same thing happens to Austria! Damn, you two are so hilarious!" Kuro hit the ground with his palm repeatedly as he continued his laughter.

 

Erzébet pulled out a small knife from the frills of her skirt and threw it towards Kuro so fast that Gilbert only felt the slicing of wind. The Japanese just move his head to the side seconds before he was hit. The knife embedded itself on the wall behind him up to the hilt. Gilbert swallowed a bit and imagined how much blood would be spilled if that sharp object managed to hit its target.

 

"Tch."

 

"Now, now, Hungary-chan~ you know you can never hit me no matter how many times you try, right?" Kuro looked condescending which made the woman madder towards him.

 

"Oh? You want to test that theory?"

 

"Are you challenging me? Because I will not hold back even though you're a woman."

 

"My, some kind of 'honorable' Japanese man you are."

 

Knife and sword were both already out and prepared to hit their target.

 

"Guys! Stop fighting! Even though I am awesome in fixing wounds doesn't mean I want to do it repeatedly!" Gilbert interrupted them immediately. He had wanted to come in between them as an added effect but still valued his life. No thank you, he was not going in the middle of two sharp objects that had the possibility to shred him into pieces.

 

“Hmp!” Roland turned his head the other way with his nose up slightly making Gilbert to remember a certain aristocrat from his own world, “If I were you, I will not waste my breathe for those people. Especially the she-demon.”

 

“No one asked for your opinion, wimpy-wanna be-wizard.”

 

“I said stop fighting! Roland, be a good boy and behave!”

 

“Excuse me?! I’m trying to keep your head attached here!” Roland gasped, no one—absolutely no one—ordered him like he was some kind of a disobedient pup! If he would be compared to a certain animal then he preferred the nocturnal ones.

 

“Well,” Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, “last time I checked everyone in this room is a member of the Awesome Gilbert team. So, there is no need for you to protect me from them.” He gestured towards the group of people sitting on the ground.

 

Right now, the five of them returned inside Gilbert’s temporary room to discuss their current predicament and how to keep the albino’s body in one piece. Though that plan seemed to be far from being a reality when almost all members of the group either hated each other or had different motives.

 

Kuro already stated what he had wanted to do right from the start. Why did this world’s Japan have a huge animosity towards the Italian brothers? South Italy, Gilbert could understand because even Lovino and Kiku never really actually got along. Kiku was just a polite being and the modest Japanese also mentioned that Lovino was just being….ah…what was that again?

 

Oh! Tsundere!

 

The first time Gilbert heard it though he thought Kiku was talking about tundra.

 

In Lutz case, Gilbert thought that this world’s Germany had conflicted decisions. Roland had said that Lutz and Luciano were best friends. If that was it then there was a great chance for Lutz to become a traitor, either towards Luciano or Gilbert was still unknown.

 

Roland was obsessive about Gilbert’s safety and that was pretty much obvious.

 

Erzébet, on the other hand, was now playing the role of a protective mother hen. Maybe that was the reason that Erzébet and Roland’s personalities crash. The Austrian didn’t want to share while the Hungarian wanted to put Gilbert inside a protective cocoon with warm blankets and a cup of hot chocolate. Gilbert preferred beer though.

 

“Okay!” Gilbert stood up on the bed where him and Roland were currently sitting, “I, the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt, states that we must start our meeting right now!” he raised his left hand and pointed one finger up in the air, “First, who else, besides the Italians, want me dead?”

 

“Hm…” Kuro put a finger on his chin and mockingly thought deeply, “Well, Luciano has a lot of stored angst and Flavio is pretty much unstable right now. The others just wanted to have a reason to ease their guilt so… I think it’s very much obvious that our only enemies are the Vargas brothers!” he clapped his hands together like he just reached the eureka moment.

 

“I forgot about that!” Erzébet covered her mouth with both hands, “Gilbert! You should be very careful around Flavio next time! Especially if Luciano is not around!”

 

“Wait, what?” Gilbert was confused once again, “Aren’t I am supposed to be careful when Luciano is around?”

 

“No,” it was Lutz who answered his question, “Luciano might be a threat in your eyes right now but trust us when we say that Flavio is more dangerous. More so now that his mental state is in shatters after the latest war.” So this 2P world still had similarities towards their counterparts. If Gilbert remember correctly, once Lovino started to take his job seriously about cleaning the mafia then the coward Italian could transform similar to the conquistador version of Spain. That was a truly terrifying sight and Gilbert didn’t want to see that again. Once was pretty much enough. If Flavio was Lovino’s counterpart then it was safe to assume that the 2P South Italy was ten times worse than his 1P. It means that Gilbert would be lucky if the older Vargas kill him without using torture.

 

“I don’t think the Nordics will be after you, Loki—Norway— is their leader anyway. That guy specifically declared that they will help you,” Roland started to add other information for the first question, “Vasska, this world’s Romania, is under a magic alliance with me so we have no problem with him either.”

 

“Wait, how about this world’s former Allies?” for Gilbert this was a legitimately concerning question. It was after all the Allies who pushed his dissolution.

 

“No worries about them either~” Kuro supplied, “My stupid, most of the times high, older brother was almost friends with Klaus. Oliver or England _was_ a _close friend_ of Klaus. James and Allen, you know them as Canada and America respectively, was very _fond_ of our world’s Prussia also. Viktor used to treat Klaus as a little brother.”

 

“You do know that you have just listed the Allies relationships towards this world’s Prussia, right?” Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the ridiculous explanation. Just because those guys had a close relationship with his 2P did not guarantee him not lying on a pool of blood in the next few days.

 

“Hai~ so what?” Kuro tilted his head a bit, “If you want I can totally do a makeover on you. That way you will look like a clone of Klaus.” It was as if a light bulb was lit up on the Japanese man as what he had said fully registered in his own mind. The grin he now sported didn’t bode well for Gilbert. Nope, not at all. “I actually like the sound of it. Come here, Prussia~ we will need a lot of time to put makeup and wig on you~ and I think I have blue contacts lying around somewhere.” Kuro stood up from the floor and walked towards his target, hands were already making some grabbing motions.

 

“Nein! Stay away from me! Roland help me here!”

 

Like a switch being turned on, Roland beamed when he heard that his precious Gilbert was acknowledging his role as a knight. The Austrian swiftly tossed his leather boots towards Kuro, who merely jumped away and landed right next to Gilbert.

 

“Ha! Don’t forget that I am the land where ninjas and samurais originated!” Kuro stated proudly and was about to seize Gilbert (who was slowly backing away) but was stopped when a weird purple circle started to envelop him.

 

“And don’t forget that I know how to use the dark arts in ways that can benefit me.” Roland countered, his right hand raised up while he gave Gilbert a one sided hug. Talk about awkwardness. And Gilbert hated it because he was not some kind of damsel in distress.

 

Kuro narrowed his eyes. He pulled out a piece of paper and a brush from the inner pocket of his uniform. Writing a few words on it, Kuro then started mumbling a few Japanese words and banished the dark magic surrounding him, “I hope you also didn’t forget that my land have few exorcism tricks against yours.”

 

Goodness, and Gilbert thought he would only have problems between Erzébet and Roland. It seemed like Roland wanted to make an enemy out of everyone even with his own allies.

 

“Wait a minute…” a sudden realization hit Gilbert and looked up Roland, “Hey, you said that some of the 2Ps are in my world, right? What are they doing there?”

 

“Um…” Roland shifted his gaze away from Gilbert. He was afraid how the Prussian would react from the information he wanted to have.

 

“They’re there because they want to deliver the judgment day.” Kuro declared offhandedly.

 

There was silence in the room after he said that. Kuro looked up with confusion, what was wrong at what he had said? That was the reason why they were going in the 1P world by batches in the first place right?

 

“What?” Kuro finally asked. Why all of them looked sheepish? Oh! Was Gilbert not supposed to know it? Surely the man did not have any inkling of sympathy towards the people who treated him like a trash, right?

 

“By judgment day…” Gilbert’s voice was laced with seriousness and controlled anger, “Do you mean that…” he forced Roland to look back at him. To add effect for the situation, a shadow covered his right eye while his left eye gleamed a dangerous red. Maybe it was the light but the effect was frightening enough to lower the temperature inside the room a few degrees. “Those people are going to hurt the nations from my world? They are going to hurt my brother?”

 

The cat was now out of the bag.

 

No one noticed that a pair of ghostly blue eyes was watching them. The ghost wanted to know how things would turn out until the end.

* * *

 

Oliver happily hummed as he tossed his legs back and forth under the table. It was such a shame, really, that Arthur didn’t want to drink the tea he had prepared for him. Oh well, more for Oliver in that case then!

 

“What are you doing here?” Arthur didn’t hide his feelings of distrust. He openly laid it on the table where the tray of cupcakes and the tea set were.

 

“Arthur, love, aren’t you going to eat the cupcakes I baked for you? Trust me, they’re delicious! I have a blueberry one here if that is what you want?” Oliver handed the tray to Arthur until it invaded the 1P’s personal space.

 

“Thank you, but no.” Arthur narrowed his eyes and shoved the tray as politely as he could away from him. The smell did promise certain deliciousness but considering what happened with the tea earlier, he would not take his chances.

 

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’ll just set it here then.” Oliver returned the tray to where it was earlier placed, “Just grab one if you want anytime!” he beamed like sunshine but his eyes spoke differently. “But, this will not be a tea party if you will not drink any tea with me. Come on, dear; humor this old chap, will you?”

 

“I would, if it happened that my tea was not poisoned. Sadly, as it turns out, my tea was poisoned making me to be unable in drinking it.”

 

“You should have said so from the start! Oh, I’m such a poor host for not seeing your discomfort.” Oliver sulked and clapped his hands together, twice. From thin air, a new tea set appeared. An empty cup settled itself in front of Arthur accompanied by others. A bottle containing tea leaves was already opened for him. “Do you want to make your own black tea?” Oliver’s unnerving smile stretched a bit further and it was, frankly speaking, starting to get on Arthur.

 

“Now, Oliver,” Arthur started as he entertained the notion of drinking tea, “I believe you owe me some explanation about your presence being here in our world.”

 

“Arthur, dear,” Arthur looked from where he was stirring the sugar cubes in his cup. His eyes widened and immediately hoped he didn’t. Not even his empire days (one that he considered his cruelest phase) could compare from the sinister, bounder line insanity, face of Oliver, “Have you ever experienced the true **_despair_**?”

 

It was definitely a magical illusion. But this illusion was so real that even Arthur, a proud member of the magic trio, started to lose his sense from uncomfortable clutches of insanity.

 

“Come here, my dear.” Oliver was now standing in front of Arthur. His hands cupped the face of the blond England, “Let me show you…” he whispered directly on his counterpart’s ear, “how beautiful despair can be.”

 

Little cupcake soldiers, strings of whipped cream, and cherry juice started to fill the room. Despite the cute idea, the setting painted a grim scenario. Even more so now that the cherry juice appeared to be a pool of blood, the strings of whipped cream were poisoned glaze, and the little cupcake soldiers are now forcing themselves to be eaten by Arthur.

 

“Now! This is what I call a tea party! Everyone!” Oliver flicked his fingers and immediately his outfit was replaced by a pink version of the mad hatter suit, “Let’s start to sing and dance! London bridge is falling down~ on the crowd~ screaming loud~ (1)”

 

Arthur was now lost inside Oliver’s game.

 

Maybe Oliver might have a friend in being a broken doll from now on? Oh~ he could not wait for Arthur to join him in tea parties!

 

“Everyone shall soon be dead~ soon be dead~ soon be dead~ (1)”

* * *

 

Luciano went to bed early that night. Two hours was all it took to fall asleep, a feat in itself for the nation. It had taken many tosses and turns and even a pillow thrown at the wall of a guest bedroom in the building their world meeting was being held, but he had finally managed. Before he had drifted into slumber, he thought how humorous it was that they all still remained in the same place when they were now against one another, but Luciano knew it would only make it easier for him to hunt them down. At that, Luciano had grinned.

 

That night, sleep was not as confusingly easy as the night after Klaus’ dissolution, but it washed over him in the same wave-like way. Luciano didn't like dreaming, but that night he did.

 

_“Luciano, go draw water.” Roland commanded, looking up from his ancient and rather scary-looking book. Luciano imagined the nation was looking up on the hottest new sigils and summonings and internally laughed before the words Roland spoke sunk in. “I will need you back in ten minutes, so hurry along.”_

 

_Luciano gripped the handle of the broom he had been sweeping with. He hated sweeping. He also hated the fact that Roland sent him on these impossible chores constantly, resulting in inescapable punishment. Roland **knew** it took ten minutes alone to just get to the well. It would take Luciano a good half hour to get back if he hurried and that was without the time for actually drawing the water or hauling the heavy pail back across the arduous fields in the stupid Austrian lands._

 

_But Luciano did not dare to complain. He had a hard time as it was keeping his mouth shut, another reason he faced punishment so constantly, and he didn’t want multiple beatings that day. So, gritting his teeth, Luciano turned on his heels and left the room without a word. He quickly picked up the wooden pail from the floor used for drawing water and slammed the door behind him, putting a large distance between him and the prison he lived in as to not turn back and whip out his favorite knife on the Austrian._

 

_“Stupid Roland. He can go to hell. Straight to that place that he worships so dearly. Ten minutes. Ha. I’ll show him ten minutes.” Luciano grumbled, tripping over the skirts of the idiotic maid’s outfit they made him wear. Pausing for a moment, Luciano bunched up the skirts in his tiny little fists to keep the fabric away from his feet. Now his boot clad feet stomped down the grass as he continued to ascend the hill. His only nuisance now was the bucket that accompanied his fistful of skirt in his right hand, knocking against his side as it swung while he walked. That and a certain black magic using pain in the ass he knew._

 

_Then, finally, Luciano reached the top of the hill, revelling in a smug sense of success before he viewed the rest of the path before him. His pent up rage still burned in his chest, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop to enjoy the view. Or to, at least, imagine the Austrian fields aflame. As he gazed over the highly flammable greenery around him, eyes lit by the thoughts of char and rubble, they fell to rest on two figures standing directly in his route to the hill with the well. The air around him seemed to change into poisonous fumes, making it dangerous to breath as a deadly growl escaped Luciano’s throat._

 

_The two people blocking the path were still leagues away, yet Luciano could see their drastic differences in height, one a boy just a little taller than Luciano and the other a man who could tower above them both. In reality, the man was actually of average height, but as nations so young, Luciano and the boy fell short of really everyone. Luciano paid no attention to the man, though. It was the boy who turned the edges of his vision red and thus was thought by the Italian to be his most hated enemy._

 

_From there, Luciano could see his blonde hair and fair skin. If he were closer, he knew he would see the red eyes that made the boy look like virtually every other nation Luciano had met and yet still remained his favorite color. The shade always tempted Luciano to stab the boy right in between his two scarlet irises, causing the same crimson color to gush from his skull and paint the world in his blood. It was only fitting his worst enemy would have eyes that shade. It was only fitting that the Holy Roman Empire would one day end up at the opposite end of his knife where Luciano could finally see those eyes up close, right before the nation was no more._

 

_Luciano had to wait for that day though. It wasn’t soon and that pissed him off. And, since he could not simply end the insufferable nation’s life here and now, he didn’t want to be anywhere near the blonde. Which made this day just the more sour for the Italian. Of course he would be there. Right there. Right in his path._

 

_Scarlet eyes looked up and locked with his own. Holy Rome knew he was there and, going by the smirk that had adorned his face when he had spotted him, standing there had been completely on purpose. Somehow he had known Luciano would be drawing water at this time; hell, he had probably been the one to instruct Roland to request it. By standing there, the bastard was ensuring Luciano couldn’t avoid his punishment. If Luciano were to go hide in the woods for the remainder of the day, Holy Rome would simply rat on him, causing even more punishment to Luciano._

 

_Luciano looked up to the sky. The sun couldn’t tell him if it had been ten minutes yet. Perhaps he could make it in time. Or maybe he could sneak in if Holy Rome was visiting. Damn it, Holy Rome wouldn’t allow that to happen. Either way, Luciano knew he had no option but to hurry if he were to avoid punishment or, better yet, shove it in that damn Holy Rome’s face that he hadn’t gotten the better of him!_

 

_Luciano ignored Holy Rome’s following gaze as he hurried down the hill. His face burned from anger and a growl ripped through his throat as he struggled to keep the hem of his skirts up. He grumbled all the way about what exactly Roland could do with his ten minutes and various profanities directed at the blonde across the field. Luciano was sure none of the words would reach the nation, but he knew his feelings of rage rippled across the estate._

 

_By the time Luciano reached the well he looked back and saw the two were gone. It had definitely been ten minutes by then and Luciano contemplated running to the woods now that Holy Rome wasn’t there to tattle. Then he imagined what the nation must have been telling Roland at that very moment._

 

_“I saw your little servant in the fields as I was walking in. Taking all the time in the world, he was. I would expect something better from your estate, but then again, Luciano has never been one of your best servants.”_

 

_Luciano’s knuckles turned white from his grip on the pail. Yes, hiding out in the forest was probably his best shot. His beating would be more severe if Roland was making an example of him. It was better to just wait._

 

_Luciano began tying the rope to the bucket when a voice behind him caused him to jump and knock it over. The **thunk** of his pail hitting the stone of the well and the **splash** of it hitting the water below made the world stand still for just a moment. Luciano could not believe what had just happened. Had he really bumped his stupid pail into the stupid well because of some stupid person who had stupidly snuck up behind him and-_

 

_Luciano’s knife was out in a flash as he spun to face the person behind him. He did not hide the rage from his face as he took in the man who had ruined his day in just the sound of a few words. His hair was silver and his face was unnaturally pale. He looked like a ghost and he seemed to think that was just what he was about to become as he stood on the other end of that knife. Luciano recognized him as the man Holy Rome had been speaking to and his resolve hardened. Just when he was about to slice the man’s throat though, he caught something he hadn’t seen before and it made him stop._

 

_He paused midway to the man’s throat. His knife was glinting with a metallic intensity as it waited for contact with flesh. But Luciano’s brows were furrowed now as he looked at the man before him, thinking not of the world painted red as he normally did when he cut someone, but one of blue. The man had **blue** eyes._

 

_“W- what?” Luciano was thoroughly confused. He had never seen **blue** eyes before._

 

_“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean to startle you!” The man had his hands up in surrender, despite being a few feet taller than the young Italy. His dark blue eyes were wide in alarm._

 

_Luciano was even more perplexed._ Sorry _?_ Please _? What was this? “Who the hell are you?” Luciano demanded, “What are you doing here? Did Holy Rome send you?”_

 

_“No, no! I just came to get some water! I’m Klaus- Urgh, I mean, Prussia. But I guess you can call me Klaus. Whatever works for you!”_

 

_“I saw you talking to Holy Rome! Don’t lie!” Luciano yelled, pointing the knife closer to the other._

 

_“No! I mean, yes. Yes, I was talking to Holy Rome but he didn’t send me here. He’s at Austria’s estate. I came here on my own!”_

 

_Luciano paused, then, “So no one told you to come?”_

 

_“Yes.” Klaus looked at the knife still pointed at his throat, not relaxing a smidge._

 

_“Fine. I’ll believe that.” Luciano said, lowering his knife to see relief pass through the other’s eyes. Immediately, he lifted it again lightning fast and received the sound of a yelp as the other jumped. “That doesn’t change the fact you made me drop the bucket in the well.”_

 

_Klaus panicked again, “I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean it! I can make it up to you!”_

 

_Luciano laughed at that. “And how do you intend to do that? Without that bucket I will get punished by Austria for not retrieving water. There is no way around that.”_

 

_“I can help! I don’t know Austria very well, but I do know he and Holy Rome have a good relationship, right?”_

 

_Luciano’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded his head, waiting._

 

_“I’ll tell them what happened and that I was the one to hold you up. That way you won’t be in trouble for not having the water or for being late. Austria will believe me because Holy Rome is my brother.”_

 

_Luciano felt his body tense. Holy Rome’s brother… “So, that makes you a nation.”_

 

_“Oh, um, yes. Sorry about that; I’m Prussia.” He held out his hand as if going for a handshake. Meanwhile, Luciano still had a knife to his throat. “A- and you are?” He stuttered, still nervous about the danger of getting his throat slit._

 

_Luciano thought long and hard about his options. He could hurt this nation, the perfect payback for all the suffering Holy Rome has inflicted on him. Then again, the nation would come back in less than an hour from a cut like that and, either way, Holy Rome didn’t seem like the kind to care about anyone but himself. Not even his own brother. Nevertheless, by harming someone so close to Holy Rome or just another nation in general, Luciano would be on a one way trip to a world of pain. Luciano’s options were limited and only one seemed the best at the time._

 

_“Luciano Vargas. I am North Italy.” Was his response to the nation. He lowered his knife and stuck it in one of the pockets on his apron. His eyes were still challenging, but he had stepped away from the opposing nation. The nation with the blue eyes. The brother of his enemy._

 

_“It’s nice to meet you.” The still nervous, but relieved looking Klaus said._

 

_Luciano pushed past the other, “Let’s get back to the estate. And if you don’t hold up your end of the deal, you can be sure to have my lucky knife in your neck in due time.”_

 

_“Of course.” He heard the response. As Luciano stomped down the hill, he heard Klaus following and looked back. “You know, Luciano, I would have helped you even if you hadn’t threatened me with a knife.”_

 

_Luciano merely laughed and turned away._

 

As the dream began to fade though, Luciano wished he would have turned around one more time. His sleep was now a blank slate of black instead of a day of blue.

 

* * *

 

Flavio was surprised to see his brother had fallen asleep that night, especially after a day like before. Stress usually made it impossible for Luciano to sleep while the exact opposite was true for Flavio. Flavio slept like a baby when he was stressed. It made it easier to avoid his responsibilities and the stress along with it. Meanwhile, Luciano was whimpering and tossing in his sleep.

 

Flavio didn’t wake him. You could call it payback for his brother letting him sleep when it would wrinkle his clothes or it could be from spite that he now had a crick in his neck, but Flavio always cared for his brother very openly and knew he let him sleep because Luciano in reality never got much of it. Even if his brother’s sleep caused his brow to furrow and hands to clench to the blankets, it was still sleep. In Flavio’s book, that was the best he could hope for Luciano.

 

So Flavio left the room to the brightly lit corridor outside. He wondered if Roland was still around and if they were all asleep somewhere like him and his brother had chosen to do. Or maybe they had gone to the 1P world like they had been planning to. He wondered, if they had, if they’d taken Gilbert too.

 

_Gilbert._

 

Flavio’s whole body had tensed at thinking the name. His mind spun and the corridor seemed to dim. Gilbert wasn’t Prussia. He never would be. He was an imposter… a liar.... Not Prussia. He didn’t deserve the title. He didn’t deserve to be _alive_ when Klaus was… was…

 

“Dead?”

 

Flavio’s eyes snapped up to see someone standing right infront of him. His heart stopped and his vision snapped back into focus. “No…” He whispered as the figure before him smiled. It was a small smile, soft and almost sad. His smile had always been like that, hadn’t it? His smile had always seemed forced and Flavio had always wanted to know why.

 

He had never figured it out, had he?

 

Flavio’s arm twitched to reach out to him, but couldn’t be quite convinced to try. The hallway was brighter. This wasn’t a trick. This was real. He was _right there._

 

“Klaus?” The name spilled from his lips like poison. He whispered as if his voice would shatter the air or the blue eyes before him. He was there. It was him. He stood there as right as day and as wrong as someone brought back to life, which was exactly what Flavio was thinking as the nation watched him silently. Klaus seemed to not have taken notice of Flavio’s attention or the words out of his mouth. Klaus looked at Flavio then right through him, his eyes shifting in focus.

 

Flavio took a step forward and that was when Klaus finally moved, taking a matching step back. Flavio looked at Klaus with a puzzled expression, first at the accusing foot then at the face of his old friend. Klaus was emotionless, something strange for the nation. Flavio remembered Klaus’ very readable features, sometimes smiling that sad smile of his, most times sporting a frown as his constantly negative emotions called for.

 

Flavio couldn’t remember a single time the nation managed to remain expressionless. Klaus just wasn’t like that.

 

“Klaus…” Flavio was still whispering, his voice, instead of being full of hope, was now cautious and uncertain. He took another tentative step forward…

 

Then the blue eyes before Flavio regarded him mournfully and turned away, bolting down the hallway with a speed Flavio had never known Klaus to have. Flavio was left behind in a panic, quickly racing after. He had to catch up with him. Klaus was here. Here! He couldn’t let him go so quickly! Klaus couldn’t leave now!

 

And so, at a considerably less speedy pace, Flavio continued to run after. He had never been fast to begin with. His calves would always hurt and the balls of his feet would ache. He wasn’t a very athletic person. It just ruined his shoes and russed up his hair! Now, though, none of it mattered. Now Flavio had to catch Klaus and nothing else mattered.

 

_Nothing_ else mattered.

 

His breathing was fast already. He tried to call out to the empty corridor ahead of him, but all that came out were incoherent shouts and deep breaths of air. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose him. He wasn’t gone. He couldn’t-

 

There! He turned a corner right ahead of Flavio! Flavio had _seen_ him! He was still there!  
  


“K-” Breath, “Klau-” Flavio croaked out, turning the corner to find the nation  had stopped. He was examining a painting hung on the wall with a hand to his chin. His stance was different. Flavio didn’t notice. Flavio had found Klaus… Klaus was there… The joy he felt lifted his heart right from out of his chest and he reached a hand out to touch his shoulder…

 

The nation turned. He must have heard Flavio call for him. Or perhaps it was Flavio’s heavy breathing. _Please don’t run away again._ Flavio thought desperately. _I don’t know if I can keep up a second time. Please don’t run away. Please don’t run…_

 

An alarmed yelp exited the other nation’s mouth. His shoulder was tense where Flavio had come to rest his hand on it. His red eyes were alert and ready to bolt, quickly looking up and down the hall for escape or help.

 

_His red eyes…_

 

Flavio’s breath had just been relaxing when it picked up again. This new information registering in his mind and resulting in an automatic response. His grip on the other’s shoulder tightened as well as his chest. His heart was in chaotic knots, tight and mangling and wrenching…

 

“You’re.” Flavio’s voice ripped from his throat, deadly pauses between each word, “Not...”

 

“ _Klaus._ ”


	6. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You should have died..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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**Chapter 6: Blood**

 

He was lost.

 

He was frozen.

 

He was paralyzed by a never ending nightmare.

 

It was… as if he had no control of his own mind and body.

 

“Look at it~ I guess I will have a souvenir after all! Now, come with me, love. We still have a lot of tea parties to attend! I hope you love baking because I’m always baking!”

 

He was England, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Arthur Kirkland.

 

…and now, he was nothing but a doll.

* * *

 

In hindsight, America already knew that what Romano said during the meeting was the truth. It was a truth that he tried his hardest to ignore as long as he could. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. Never wanted to know its presence. He needed to maintain his hero façade or else he would be broken.

 

America…for all his bravado and speeches…he knew, he had realized it long ago, that all of them were monsters. Monsters created to defend their pride and honor, to reflect their own people and culture, to maintain who they were before and after. He was no stranger to blood, murder, everything that a hero should not have done but America still did. That was because it was his duty as a personification.

 

Killing humans was not new to anyone of them. Killing in cold blood, torturing for information, their own bosses even gave them order for suicide missions just because they have temporary ‘immortality’. America already knew the drill during wars, be it a physical or political one. For them, humans were just pieces in the game for them, the nations, to prosper and live longer.

 

But…eliminating one of their own? Someone who bear the same existence as them?

 

It felt like America had committed the greatest sin he could ever had.

 

_“Where do nations go when they die?”_

 

_“I don’t know. But I wish Vati and my brothers were somewhere peaceful. But I will not be surprised if we will meet them in hell.”_

 

_“Why do you think such thing, Prussia?”_

 

_“America, how many blood do you think you can spill? Always remember, we are murderers never heroes.”_

 

Sitting on the couch, isolating himself on his own bedroom and not even bothering to change his meeting clothes for comfortable ones, America covered his mouth with his hands to stifle the sob threatening to come up from his throat. Why? Why did they sign the paper back then? America would not lie to himself that when they finally gave the verdict to the German brothers he felt that he was really a hero. The brothers were the perfect depiction of a villain in the eyes of everyone and the Allies were the ones who finally defeated them. Having a temporary control over Germany? A justifiable action in America’s book. Dissolving Prussia…yes, he did initially thought that this was also an appropriate action. For it was Prussia’s nature that gave birth to one of the worst ideas that mankind could think of yet. Of course Russia was a bit reluctant in agreeing but he soon gave up because the German brothers did a number on him also.

 

When Prussia was still alive after all this years, America was really relieved. That was because that the living proof that he was a hero and not a killer was before his very eyes. But now…now that everyone officially declared that Prussia was already dead not just as a land but also as a human…America felt that he lost a major game. He felt the worst loser he could ever be.

 

He was…not a hero at all.

 

“I failed as a hero…” America muttered as tears started rolling down.

 

Then he felt the shifting of the air around him. He only had seconds to move before something hit the place where he was previously sitting on and smashed his couch with no problem. Eyes wide, hands immediately searching for his gun hidden under his clothes, America gaze up to find his attacker. Right before him was someone sporting a similar feature of him but with a few differences. It was like he was looking through a mirror with inverted colors.

 

“Found you~ Hello, Porky.”

 

America didn’t even manage to utter a single word for his attacker started advancing towards him. Who was this guy? Why does he look like America? And what the hell? Did the guy just tossed his couch like it was just a piece of paper? Was this guy a human in the first place? An alien, perhaps? One of those magical creatures that England kept babbling about? Whatever kind of creature his enemy was, this guy was not a good news at all. Especially when he was trying his hardest in bashing America’s skull to bloody pieces.

 

“Who the hell are you?!” America finally managed to ask as he crouched down to avoid the weapon of his enemy from hitting his head. Upon closer look, he found out that it was a baseball bat studded with sharp looking nails. Some of the nails were rusted that if a normal human was wounded by it then there would be a risk of having tetanus.

 

“Really? You are asking me that?” the enemy’s voice was so exasperated that America felt like an idiot for not knowing who this guy was in the first place. Due to this distraction, he didn’t saw the incoming kick directed to his stomach. It made contact and America was pushed to the far side of the wall. He didn’t even manage to slid down on the floor before another kick was sent down and landed on his throat. Now, America was dangling a few centimeters from the ground, body pressed on the wall, and he was just suspended on the air because of the foot putting pressure on one of his airways.

 

“Didn’t your England teach you anything useful? Oh…wait, you’re an idiot. Why did I expect you to know who I am?”

 

America desperately grasped the leg of his attacker to free himself. Despite having super human strength, it seemed that his enemy had the same ability as him.

 

“So…Porky, listen carefully, this wouldn’t be fun unless you know who defeated you.” The guy lifted his tinted shades up and America was staring on the blood red eyes of his enemy, “I’m you. I’m America. But unlike you, I am not a coward. I’m not a hero.” His enemy leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I’m a monster that you fail to acknowledge yourself.”

 

This night…was the start of their living nightmares.

* * *

 

“I never really wanted them to dissolve Prussia in the first place, you know?” despite lying on his own pool of blood, Russia still maintained his supposedly childish smile, “But then we were at war, and wars requires compensation from the losers.”

 

Viktor stared on his 1P counterpart and pressed the knife deeper on Ivan’s stomach using his foot, “You didn’t even defend yourself, da. You just let me attack you even though it was obvious I will not show any mercy.”

 

“Gh…Da…You’re right.” Ivan coughed a little. In his crucified position, he had no way of getting out. Not with knives embedded deeply in his hands and legs. This was the downsides of having Belarus to carry multiple knives. Speaking of Belarus…

 

“You fucker! I’ll slice your dick off and feed them to the dogs! How dare you hurt my Big Brother!” oh, yeah, there was Belarus who was spectacularly defeated by her own counterpart with no problem. The other Belarus was sitting on top of Ivan’s sister to prevent her from moving. Not that Belarus could move at all from all her injuries and her counterpart broke all the necessary joints in her body with the exception of the spine.

 

“Maybe…maybe because I already know that I can never defeat you.” Ivan received a raised eyebrow from his counterpart and made him chuckle a little bit. Bad move for it only put pressure in his ribs and lungs, “I mean…I already know that I am a monster yet I desperately wanted to change it… but you…your eyes reflected the truth that you have lived your entire life as a real monster. That is scarier than who I am right now.”

 

Viktor scoffed a little and moved his foot away from the injury, “You have no idea what kind of world I came from. For us, it is either kill or be killed. Show no mercy. War is war as you have said.”

 

“Da…I have no idea. But, if I may ask, what was your relationship to the Prussia of your world?”

 

With no hesitation, Viktor answered, “He was a brother to me and my sisters.”

 

“Oh…that must be fun. I wished Prussia and I had such relationship towards each other…” Ivan coughed a bit of blood by then.

 

“There is no point prolonging your sufferings. Unlike the others, you already realized your mistake from the start. Somehow…it’s not so bad to have you as my counterpart.”

 

“Ah…I’ll take that as a compliment then.”

 

From the inside of his coat, Viktor pulled a gun and pointed it at the middle of Ivan’s forehead, “Until we meet again.”

 

“I hope we will meet again on better circumstances next time, da?”

 

“Da.”

 

“Don’t you dare!” a gunshot echoed through the room. A loud screech followed after only to stop immediately by a sharp object beheading Natalya’s body.

 

Hours later, Ukraine visited Russia’s house to give some of the food she manage to cook only to found out the bloody and messed up corpses of her brother and sister that was slowly regenerating. The food was not eaten and Ukraine even spilled on the floor the contents of her stomach before coming on Ivan’s mansion.

 

* * *

 

“Uh oh.” Was all Gilbert could say in that moment. What does one say when the mirrored version of South Italy looks at them with a wild, slightly crazed look in his eyes and mistakes them for some dead mirrored version of themself only to realize it isn’t actually the person they knew but some other-worldly version that, according to other other-worldly versions of nations Prussia had come to know, this South Italy wanted dead. Oh, and did Prussia mention that Flavio looked absolutely crazed at the moment? He had? Well, good because _he looked like he had just broken out of Arkham Asylum and was ready to terrorize all of Gotham._

 

Gilbert took a step back, only to see Flavio stiffen and decided that perhaps _not doing anything_ was his best move for the time being. _Maybe if I don’t move he won’t see me and he’ll go away._ Flavio’s eyes remained transfixed on Gilbert though. Gilbert slowly moved to hold his hands between himself and Flavio, palms outward to show peace and maybe protect himself from bodily harm. “Uh, hey Flavio. I can call you that, can’t I? Um, how are you? I heard that you were kind of pissed at me, but no hard feelings, right? I’m sure we can work this out…”

 

“You aren’t Klaus…” Flavio repeated in a broken tone, slightly different than the deranged and flat one he had used before. It was as if he were mourning the death of his friend all over again and Gilbert almost felt bad for him. He probably would have if self preservation wasn’t keeping him on his toes. “You aren’t Klaus-” Flavio’s voice broke at the alternate Prussia’s name and his eyes began to swim in tears.

 

“I’m… not.” Prussia felt bad for breaking the news to him, even when he couldn’t control the fact of it. Gilbert felt like he should comfort the other and damn the warnings his new friends had given him to the contrary, but the only problem was, he had no idea how. Gilbert was so awesome that usually all he had to do was go and tell them that the people who hurt them were lame and that his awesome self would go beat them up. Now, the only person he could beat up here to help comfort Flavio was himself. Evidently, Gilbert didn’t think doing so was the best idea.

 

Flavio had covered his eyes, head bent down and sobbing quietly. Gilbert was so out of his depth. Not two seconds before he had been ready to bolt, thinking for sure the 2P nation would have attacked, but now Prussia could only stay rooted to the spot, helpless to the other’s sorrows. Finally, the sobs seemed to quiet down.

 

“Our Prussia didn’t deserve this. Of all the Prussias, why did it have to be **you** that survived?” The words tore from Flavio’s throat as he slowly raised his head away from his hands, red eyes like stained glass soaked in rain.

 

“I- uh, I don’t-” Gilbert tried to answer, stumbling over his words and unable to excuse his very existence. _Why **did** I survive? Why me?_ He thought.

 

“You shouldn’t have. It should have been Klaus. Klaus should have lived! Not **you!** ” Flavio yelled, hands now balled at his sides into tight fists. He was trembling in rage, eyes mad once again.

 

“And if Klaus can’t live- if none of the other Prussias can live- what is there a reason for you?” Flavio’s words caused Gilbert’s heart to sink into his stomach. _There isn’t a reason._ His thoughts continued. _Just like they all told me back in my world. I shouldn’t have lived, should I have? I shouldn’t be here._

 

“So now,” Flavio continued carefully, a wicked smile adorning his face, “I will fix the order of things. If Prussia isn’t made for this world anymore, then you shouldn’t be here.” His words echoed Gilbert’s thoughts which in turn continued to echo over and over in his head. _Shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t-_

 

“If Klaus can’t live-” Flavio’s voice broke off again before he shook his head and regained his smirk and dark eyes, bent on revenge. “Then neither can you!”

 

At these words, Flavio lunged at Gilbert, ready to tear him to tiny shreds. Gilbert had only enough time to scream.

* * *

 

Roland usually neglected sleep on any given night. The darkness was always his friend and he found himself the most awake during the quiet times of morning when all others were asleep. He could do dark spells and curses without worrying about others barging in. He could study his old books and walk the grounds of his estate when the morning fog was thick. When he had known Klaus, he would stay awake to watch over him and, when Klaus had died, Roland had found himself unable to sleep for less peaceful reasons. Nightmares. Guilt. The shadows that continued to whisper to him and the ghosts of past memories in his mind’s eye.

 

Now that Roland had Gilbert, he had been sure he could get through a night in a more peaceful manner. The first few days Gilbert had been with them, still unconscious from his passage between the worlds, Roland had been able to stay awake without a single problem. His mind was too occupied with keeping his precious Prussia safe and with making sure none of the other 2Ps did anything stupid as they waited for the time where they could travel to the other world. Roderich wasn’t plagued by guilt and the shadows that lingered at the corners of the hallways remained silent. Roland had thought saving Gilbert had eased his guilt-ridden bones and alleviated his taut mind.

 

But now, the first night after Gilbert had awoken and they had spoken and Gilbert had become _real_ , not just a Prussia or a replacement for Klaus or a way to relieve himself from guilt, but a real person… nation, Roland had somehow, in only the hours of that single day, changed.

 

Roland slept that night and he slept peacefully.

 

Roland had never liked sleep. He had never liked wasting away the hours of the night on something so useless as sleep. Was it because of what a long day it had been that Roland slept so deeply that not even the crashing of cymbals in his ears could wake him? Was it because he had saved Gilbert and not just some man he felt like he knew nothing about from another universe?

 

Roland didn’t have time to contemplate these thoughts when he woke after feeling someone shake his shoulder, for the first thing put into view was a lazily scrawled note on a lazily torn piece of paper. “That idiot.” Roland growled, grabbing the paper and jumping up.

 

It read:

 

_Sup, the Awesome Team Gilbert! The awesome me has decided to take a little night walk. I won’t be far and, don’t worry, I’m too awesome to lose my way. Anyway, I’ll be back soon and you probably won’t even need this note!_

 

_-The awesome leader of this awesome team, Gilbert_

 

“Should we worry?” The voice of the person who had been holding the note and, presumably the one who had shaken him awake, came out in a low rumble. Roland didn’t have time to glare at  lutz as if he had lost his mind before he was sprinting out the door. Of _course_ they should worry. Gilbert had gone off _alone_. Without any way of protecting himself. With Luciano and _Flavio_ out for his ass. Roland would have worried if Gilbert had simply gone off alone, but now he was basically panicking at the thought of what could have happened to the nation while he had been away.

 

“Gilbert?” Roland shouted throughout the corridors, “Gilbert!”

 

Finally, he heard something when he arrived at a split in the hallways. There were three different paths to take and from one, Roland could hear voices echoing down the long hallway. He paused to listen until he heard what he was looking for. He turned to the right and ran.

 

“The crazy not Romano guy is going to kiiiilllll meeeeee!” Just then Roland bumped directly into the very man he had been looking for. They were both knocked to the floor and Gilbert looked at him with fearful red eyes. When he seemed to realize that it was Roland he relaxed, but only just enough to point down the corridor he had just sprinted in from. “Roland, you were right! The South Italy here is completely unstable! It’s just a hunch, but I’m pretty sure that guy wants me dead.”

 

Roland was on his feet and between his precious princess and the corridor in which he had come in a flash. He was already enchanting spells to block the hallway and laying curses to trap and hurt Flavio when he came. “This should hold him off. Come on, Gilbert. We should get out of here.”

 

“Um, yeah, Roland. That sounds great and all, but I think we might have a minor problem with that.” Gilbert’s voice sounded uneasy and he even laughed a little nervously. Roland turned around to find Flavio gripping the nation by the throat in a headlock sort of way.

 

“I found you, Prussia. I knew I would. I mean, you are the only one of your kind left.” Flavio unwrapped his arm and slammed Gilbert to the wall, nearly choking him from the grip on his throat. Suddenly, he was shot sky-high as one of Roland’s curses hit him dead in the chest.

 

“Not a clever idea to be putting your hands on him while I’m around.” Roland said coldly before rushing to help Gilbert to his feet after the nation had slid to the ground.

 

“Ugh, so not awesome…” Gilbert groaned and Roland began to lead them quickly away. Then Roland crumpled to the ground as he felt a deep cut in his back. The warm feeling of blood spurted from where a knife had slit his back and the dark laugh of another person sounded from behind them.

 

“Flavio, you shouldn’t have left without me. Now look at yourself. You’re beaten on the floor and you can barely see straight. Come on, get up. We have some hurting to do.” Through Roland’s sudden dizziness, he recognized that voice. He looked up and, through the blurriness of his vision. He saw Luciano standing over his body, one foot on Gilbert as well so he couldn’t get away. “Look, I’ve saved this wanna be Prussia for you, so come on and get your lazy ass up.”

 

Fury surged through Roland and a ripple of dark magic sent Luciano back a few steps. He looked at Roland with rage then took a moment to settle, now looking slightly amused. “Is that all you can do while you’re bleeding out? I would have expected more but, then again, your magic has always been sub par.”

 

Flavio was now next to Gilbert and Roland’s heart filled with fear. _No. Not Gilbert._

 

Another weak ripple of magic breezed over the Italian brothers, but it felt like no more than a light wind. Flavio’s focus was solely on Gilbert, but Luciano was still having fun taunting Roland.

 

“Oh, Roland. Don’t make me cut your throat again.” Luciano warned, laughing cruelly, “So, how does it feel?” Luciano asked, leaning in for Roland’s reaction, “How does it feel to know that you will lose Prussia again? It probably won’t feel like anything, you know. All he is to you is a way to forgive yourself for not being able to save Klaus. Or perhaps that is exactly why you will feel something. The guilt will come back.”

 

“If replacing Klaus is how you forgive yourself, then you deserve your guilt.” Luciano flipped his knife, “Now, you will watch him die. Flavio, kill him.”

 

Luciano tossed his brother his knife and, upon catching it, Flavio dug the sharp blade into Gilbert’s neck.

 

“NOOOO!!!!!”


	7. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will happen to Gilbert now? How about Roland and the others? What will the Italian Brothers next plan will be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CV: Hey guys! Long time no see? Sorry, this is my fault. November was a busy month for me. Thank you all for your support; it helps Sand and I a bunch!  
> Also, for 2P!Romania I made him serious and dark because his 1P! is cheerful and mischievous. No idea if that’s what the accepted 2P! version of him is but I hope it fits enough.  
> Thank you all and can’t wait to see you in the next update!
> 
> GDS: (Hides behind CodeVassie) I’m sorry! I’m at fault also! Code gave me her part a few weeks ago—I think it was the first week of December—but I can’t write my part due to ah…a lot of stuff happening in my personal life and writer’s block… But we are happy for all the support you are giving in this story of ours, as Code have said before. Thank you for all the reviews also! It makes us so happy!
> 
> And Merry Christmas!

**Chapter 7: A Helping Hand**

“NOOOOOO!” Roland’s voice echoed along the corridor. It seemed that this one scream was what took up the rest of the world, the only sound left for people to be haunted with. Anyone who heard it would have caught the unmistakable fury and shock behind it. But, as it echoed through the corridors and the world beyond it, shaking the Earth, it seemed, like a tidal wave of grief, not a soul but the four inhabitants of that hall could hear it.

 

Flavio had unsheathed his brother’s knife from the pale neck it had been piercing. It was drenched in blood and the blonde Italian brother looked at it like it was a treasure, tilting it this way and that in the light. Below him, Gilbert’s body rested in a heap, having fallen to the floor in the pain and fatigue the loss of blood had induced. The sounds of his struggling breath could barely be heard over Luciano’s maniacal laughter, who was bent over himself like he had just been told the world’s funniest joke.

 

It didn’t take long for the laughing Italian to make his way over to Roland who was still lying on the floor, watching with wide eyes as Gilbert writhed on the ground. His voice was hoarse from the scream he had been bellowing. He couldn’t recount how long he had been there, but when Luciano bent over him to watch his pain etched face, a renewed fury replaced his desperation and he spit in the Italian’s face.

 

Rage wiped the grin off of Luciano’s features in less than a millisecond and he kicked Roland in the stomach. The dull pain in the nation’s back where he had been stabbed flared, but it still seemed like a far away feeling to Roland, as did the strike to his gut he had just received. He struggled to get up, to go to Gilbert across the room and maybe stopper the bleeding in his neck as much as he could, but Luciano pushed him back to the floor. His vision blurred for a second and he feared that this would be the end - that Luciano was tired of playing around with him and would go terrorize his Prussia instead.

 

Because that is what Luciano would do. He would not kill Roland or even kill Gilbert. His aim was to put Roland through as much agony as he could. Roland desperately blinked his eyelids, trying to eradicate the glazed film that surrounded his vision, but it seemed every time he blinked it only made it worse. He began to panic, seeing an indistinguishable figure approaching the other end of the corridor from Flavio’s left. When had Luciano gone over there? Why couldn’t Roland see anything? Where was Gilbert?

 

“No! Don’t hurt him!” Roland thrashed around, still watching the approaching shadow. He felt his eyes water, but blinked it away, knowing that knights couldn’t very well cry and attempting still to clear his sight. Then Flavio, or the figure he had been suspecting was Flavio, stilled. The knife in his hand that he had still been examining clattered to the floor and another figure that Roland had just caught sight of spun to face him from the other end of the room.

 

“Flavio?” That blur asked, shock tracing his voice. It was the voice of Luciano… but if that was Luciano then who was…

 

The figure behind Flavio reappeared as the one in front fell to the floor. Roland’s hearing was beginning to grow fuzzy as well, but he strained to hear what the figure said.

 

It was an arduous task though and he became light-headed through the difficulty of it.

 

_Have to…_  Roland blinked rapidly… _Stay awake…_ His head knocked against the floor from where he had been attempting to lift it for a better look of the room. The flooring was cool against his cheek and the room became brighter and brighter as he began to black out. What a strange oxymoron there. If he hadn’t been panicking over the destiny of the crumpled figure across the room at that moment, he would have found the thought amusing.

 

But, as the mirrored Austria became distant from reality, he could only hear a strange buzzing in his ears, feel the shaking emotions swirling in his chest, and see the motionless body across from him as the world faded to nothing.

* * *

 

“Roland, wake up!” Someone was shaking him, but his body was slow to respond, “ROLAND!”

 

He jolted awake, looking around like something had caught on fire or for anything of equal danger. He barely took in anything about the room he was in though, until the voice in front of him shouted again, shaking him with too much force for waking someone up.

 

“Finally, you lazy ass! Now come on, we need to get going!” The voice belonged to a woman and, as Roland focused, he saw that the delicate face before him had an angry crease to her eyebrows and a worried look in her eyes. Her high ponytail had strands of hair loose from it other than the ones that normally were and she looked quite disheveled.

 

“Erzsébet?” Roland asked groggily, wondering what was going on, having his mind not caught up with the situation yet.

 

Erzsébet stood impatiently, planting fists on either side of her waist and glaring down at Roland. Her malice wasn’t as strong as it normally was though and she seemed distracted. She glanced behind her for a second then turned back. “It’s Gilbert.” Her voice shook a little, though her expression did not change, “We don’t think he’s going to make it.”

 

Roland immediately launched to his feet, the world tilting as these words settled on him. He stepped around Erzsébet to be greeted with the sight of Gilbert on the floor, bleeding profusely from some tightly wound bandages around his neck. His head was in Lutz’s lap who was pressing at the wound hesitantly, for the bandages couldn’t do their best work when winding them to their tightest extent would only cut off Gilbert’s breathing. Lutz seemed unsure as to if his pressing on the wound was hurting the man below him.

 

A few feet away Kuro was kicking a wall. “DAMN IT!” He shouted to no one in particular, “Dammit dammit dammit!” He shouted every time his foot impacted with the cracking wall. Next to him was a fainted Flavio and, another few feet away, a fainted Luciano. Roland couldn’t bring himself to be impressed even when the situation obviously called for it. His attention was on Gilbert who he then raced over to, forgetting his own wounds and everything else.

 

“Gilbert?” Roland asked the unconscious Prussian below him as he kneeled across from Lutz, “Gilbert!” He nearly shouted this time, only for a hand on his shoulder make him pause.

 

“He’s alive.” Erzsébet assured him, “But only just. His breathing is becoming weaker.”

 

Roland wrenched his shoulder from her grip. “We have to do something.” He panted, his breath coming in sharp gasps as the situation filled him with hysteria.

 

“He can’t survive in our world, Roland.”

 

“Then we’ll take him back to his!” Roland shouted, turning abruptly to face her, rage and a mad look in his eyes.

 

Erzsébet did not back down, but instead straightened. “And what if we’re too late? Is the portal even open? Can we get him there in time before he completely bleeds to death?”

 

“We have to try!” Roland snarled, head dizzy with the thoughts of every odd stacked against them.

 

“And what then?” Erzsébet asked, clearly not done, “Say we get there in time. He still isn’t a nation! What if this is it? What if he can’t hold on anymore? What if this is what happened to Klaus - he couldn’t hold onto the world after his dissolution. Gilbert’s strong, but for how long can he last here?”

 

“Don’t you dare talk about Klaus.” Roland said with contained fury, no longer shouting. “Don’t you dare think you can still say his name after you _forgot_ him. After you continued with life as if he had never even been there! I was the only one who remembered before I told you all about the other world! I was the only one who cared before Gilbert came along!”

 

“I didn’t care about Klaus, is that what you think?” Erzsébet was starting to get truly angry, “You think that I didn’t mourn his death, that I wouldn’t give ANYTHING to have him back?!?” Her face was contorted in outrage, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I think I should be the one to say ‘Don’t _you_ dare, Roland Edelstein. Don’t you dare think you have any _right_ to say that you were the only one who cared about Klaus because, before you came along, he had so many others who cared about him too.’”

 

“I knew him when we were both kids - we grew up together. Lutz was his little brother - Klaus loved _no one_ before Lutz. Hell, even Luciano and Flavio cared about Klaus before you even met him! Whatever he was to you or you were to him doesn’t just cancel the rest of us out!”

 

“I carried on because that is what Klaus _would have wanted_! He wouldn’t have wanted any of us to become what you have - to shut ourselves off from the world because he was gone!”

 

By the time she was done she was breathing heavily. Whether it was an attempt to control her flaring indignation or because all of that shouting had really taken it out of her, Roland didn’t know. What he did know was plain and clear though.

 

Roland straightened. “We have to save Gilbert.” He said simply and Erzsébet’s eyes filled with some emotion Roland couldn’t place because of his blind drive to help Prussia - whether it be Gilbert or Klaus or any other Prussia out there.

 

After staring Roland down for a few more seconds, Erzsébet spoke to Lutz without even taking her eyes from him. “Lutz, carry Gilbert. We’re going to the portal.”

 

Roland nodded once to Erzsébet and went to help Lutz before she grabbed his elbow. She leaned in close and spoke in a low voice. “Your loyalty is your fatal flaw, Roland.” She warned, “And you know what they say about fatal flaws…”

 

“They will be the end of you.”

* * *

 

By the time they had arrived at the room where the portal had previously been set, Gilbert was an unnatural shade of white. The paleness of his skin was sickly, whiter than his normal pallid look. The blood loss must have doubled from the travel of the winding corridors and everyone took turns ripping off parts of their clothing to create rags to absorb the copious amounts of blood. Roland wouldn’t stop watching the Prussian with worried eyes and Erzsébet viewed this with displeasure. The devotion Roland had to Gilbert -and to Klaus when he had been alive- was rather unhealthy and Erzsébet feared how this would affect the Prussian in the long run.

 

If Gilbert were to survive, that is. They had to save the former country first in order for Erzsébet’s worries about Roland to become of importance. For now, they had more paramount things to consider as of the moment.

 

“Where’s the portal?” Kuro asked when they got there, having been fidgeting the whole way to their destination. Erzsébet was surprised he hadn’t kicked a wall since they had departed but suspected she wouldn’t have to wait long for another one considering this turn of events. “Where’s the fucking portal!” He shouted and smacked the door frame with the palm of his hand.

 

“Oliver was with the first party, but shouldn’t he have left some way for the second party to get through?” Erzsébet asked, eyeing the room for clues. Her search was interrupted though by the voice of someone not in their little Team Gilbert group and she, and everyone else, immediately stooped into fighting stances.

 

“Oliver isn’t the only one with magic in this world though.” A dark voice cut in and, in a dark corner of the room, a figure emerged.

 

“What the hell, Vasska. Why are you murking there like some creeper? Don’t you have a life?” Kuro asked, only to receive a wave in reply.

 

“I go where I’m needed. And it seems where I'm needed is here creating a portal for a group with a member on the verge of death.” Vasska said, seeming to be reminding them of the urgency behind their visit. Roland stepped forward.

 

“Create the portal. Now.” He commanded and the Romanian narrowed his eyes.

 

“I do what I please and that is not in service to you, a magician who cannot do _half_ of the things Oliver, Loki, and I can do.”

 

“How come we got stuck with you, the only moody person of the magic trio…” Roland mumbled. Erzsébet had the feeling he did not speak up fully because he knew he needed the other’s help. Vasska was right after all. Roland couldn't create that portal without one of those three.

 

“I will require payment, of course.” Vasska smirked to the others’ amazement.

 

“We’re trying to save this guy’s life!” Kuro protested, gesturing wildly to Gilbert’s form, curled into himself in Lutz’s arms.

 

“And I do not care.” Vasska rolled his eyes, “I only helped in the first place to create the link between our worlds because of Oliver’s will to do it. I have no care what happens to this other-worlder.”

 

“Why you-” Kuro began to advance on the magician only for Erzsébet to stop him with an arm held out.

 

“We don't have time for that.” She warned Kuro then directed her voice to Vasska, “What is it you want?”

 

Vasska smirked, “Simple…” Slowly, he turned to face Roland, lips still quirked in their dark grin, “Roland’s magic. I want it all.”

 

Roland’s jaw slacked and his eyes grew wide. He was speechless.

 

“Every ounce in and out. Your spellbooks and potions. Wands, artifacts, inborn talent and acquired. I want you to have nothing left.”

 

Erzsébet watched Roland as this demand registered in his mind. Magic, something the nation had had much longer than he had even known Klaus, something he had relied on for practically everything, was the price at stake for Gilbert’s life. Erzsébet knew he was desperate, but _this_ desperate? Could he? Could any rational person give up the one thing that had protected him for centuries?

 

But, then again, Roland was no rational person. Since he had grown attached to Klaus, since he had discovered Gilbert, Erzsébet doubted he could even be considered _sane_.

 

“There has to be something else.” Erzsébet cut in. She and Roland may have bickered constantly, fought regularly, given each other black eyes and broken bones. They may have been arch enemies, for lack of a better term, but she did not want to see him like this - at his very last whim. It was pathetic to know that he would probably do it.

 

And do it he did.

 

“Okay.” Roland spoke in a dark voice, one that slightly shook with the weight of this life-altering decision, “You can have it. Have it all. Just create the portal so we can save Gilbert!”

 

Vasska paused for a moment. He was possibly the most shocked in the room. Lutz and Kuro didn't quite see the extent of this decision for Roland and Erzsébet was already resigned to the fact that Roland was unstable enough to do so. Vasska quickly let the shock slide off of his face. He had never been one to let his emotions show for long.

 

“Alright then!” Vasska clapped his hands together. “I assume you want to get this over with, so step over here.”

 

Roland’s steps seemed heavy, like he was struggling for foothold on the moon. Finally, he was in front of Vasska.

 

“Get ready.” Vasska warned, “Also, I get a binding spell that you’ll hand over all your magical items when you get back.”

 

Roland nodded and looked over at Gilbert. Erzsébet knew he must be reminding himself why he was doing this. Somehow, this comforted the Hungarian. This sign that he was having second thoughts showed he wasn’t completely blind by his need to protect Prussia. Perhaps he wasn't as insane as Erzsébet thought.

 

Then he turned back to Vasska and Erzsébet reminded herself not to go soft. Of course he was as insane as she had thought. This was _Roland_ she was talking about.

 

Then Vasska placed his hands on either side of Roland’s head, resting on his temples. Roland glared, but Vasska didn't pay attention to this. Instead, the Romanian closed his eyes and hummed. The room around them hummed in reply, energy crackling like static electricity.

 

The three other conscious occupants of the room looked about, wary of the magic around them because of their inexperience in the unnatural. They returned their attentions back to the two main attractions when Vasska began to mumble. Because of the noise of the room and the low voice Vasska used, no one but the two magicians could hear what Vasska said, but at one point Erzsébet thought she saw Roland nod to something he said and reply in a mumble of his own.

 

_This must be the promise Vasska mentioned._ Erzsébet thought. Then, upon thinking this, the energy of the room seemed to go wild, making as much noise as it could and forming winds around the room that knocked everyone this way and that. Roland and Vasska remained unfazed though.

 

Then, at the point where Erzsébet was sure she wouldn't be able to hold her ground any longer and knew Gilbert must have been getting worse under the struggling arms of Lutz’s hunched figure, the wind completely stopped. The noise around them focused and Erzsébet looked back at the pair in the center of the room in time to watch as Roland was thrown backward with a _Pop!_ Vasska stood for a moment as still as could be then opened his eyes with a genuine smile, though not one that Erzsébet would have liked to ever see again.

 

“Thank you, Roland.” Vasska said, now that the room was silent. With a wave of his hand he let his newly found power open a portal that would have taken minutes of focused silence to create. Erzsébet could see a field with yellow flowers dotting the hillside and hazy grey mountains in the distance. She had no idea where this was or even if it would be where they emerged on the other side, but it reminded her of home. Perhaps this other world wasn't so different after all. “My work here is done.” Vasska said and snapped his fingers. He was gone and they were left alone with the portal.

 

“Heya, Roland.” Kuro spoke up, “You alright?”

 

Erzsébet turned her head towards the Austrian to see that he was shakily picking himself up off the ground. She frowned as Roland lost his balance and fell again to the floor.

 

“Uuummm…” Kuro spoke up again, “Maybe someone should help him?”

 

Erzsébet looked around and sighed. “Fine.” She growled and stalked off to help the Austrian. “I’m helping you but I'm not happy about it.”

 

When Roland attempted to snarl at her, Erzsébet saw just how weak the nation was. He was almost as pale as Gilbert and he could barely stand on his feet even with assistance. He had to heal, but the only way he could do that was in this world. He would be useless in the other.

 

“Roland-” She started only to be cut off by Roland’s hand in front of her face.

 

“Don’t-” The Austrian started to say only to wince from the effort. He breathed, then finished, “...say it.” His eyes were clenched shut and his teeth were glued together to keep him from, what Erzsébet had deduced, screaming.

 

“You idiot. You won't be any help to him in this state.” Erzsébet argued.

 

“I won't help him from here either.” Roland ground out through a tight jaw. “Why do you care anyway? Let’s go through and save Gilbert!”

 

“You’ll only drag us down, you idiot. Besides, if you die I won't have anyone’s ass to kick.” Erzsébet answered angrily. How could someone just throw away their _life_ like that? She cared about Gilbert too, but, damn, Roland was just irrational. There was no way he could do anything in the state he was in -it would only slow them down.

 

“Find someone else’s ass to kick!” Roland argued.

 

“Like hell!” Erzsébet exclaimed back.

 

The two continued to stare each other down and bicker until Lutz stepped in, holding the limp form of the man they had come all this way for -that they had done _all of this_ for. “We must go through the portal.” Lutz said, “Now.”

 

Roland stared at Erzsébet one last time then nodded his head in agreement with Lutz. Erzsébet stayed silent, watching the two in their consensus. She knew Lutz didn't care one way or the other if Roland accompanied them but it still felt like a betrayal. Lutz stepped towards the portal and, without stopping to see what the others would do, disappeared within. Erzsébet watched Roland follow them with wide eyes. She could see his desperation to follow after.

 

Roland would die if he went. From the loss of his magic here or from protecting Gilbert over there, the odds were against Roland and Erzsébet knew she couldn’t let him accompany them. So, she watched as Kuro followed after Lutz and also disappeared into the portal then Erzsébet dropped Roland, letting him support his own weight which eventually drained him and caused him to crumple to the floor.

 

“She-devil!” Roland cursed her and she looked away, already making her way towards the portal. If Roland couldn’t walk on his own, what business did he have for following them into a world where they were mortal and he could not heal at the rate of a country? If he couldn’t follow on his own, he had no right to protect Gilbert in this other world.

 

Erzsébet strode towards the portal, listening to the shouts of indignation from the Austrian behind her. Her heart almost hurt for the nation, but she knew that had to be impossible. Even when she thought about it - that Roland had lost Klaus, his magic, certainly his sanity (so Erzsébet thought) and now he probably thought he would lose Gilbert too - Erzsébet knew she couldn’t actually be _sympathizing_ with this nation whom she had been foes with for centuries.

 

So, without a backward glance, Erzsébet left the shadow of the nation she was saving for whatever reason and, as she walked through the portal, she pretended not to hear his wails.

* * *

 

Every caster has their own way of making portals to the other side of their world. In Oliver’s case the portal acted as a general place where the group could land and then proceed to find what or who they were looking for using their own methods. In Vasska’s case, however, his portal acted as a kind of magnet towards his travelers.

In other words, Kuro and company landed near to where their counterparts could be found. In a much shorter version, they were now separated from each other.

In a very _much shorter version,_ they were screwed.

“What the fuck?! I’m in Japan?!” Kuro shouted at no one in particular when he saw a glimpse of Tokyo tower from where he was standing. It was a small blessing that he was standing alone in an alleyway at night. “Wait I’m Japan. Shit! I’m inside of my counterpart’s country!” but if he would not lower his voice then sooner or later someone from the neighborhood would surely send the cops on him. That was not his first priority though so he could care less about it.

“Hmm…” he thought for a moment as he tried to assess the situation. Sadly, he remembered the last words he just said, “Huh, inside my counterpart. Now that is something I didn’t expect for me to say. That sounds really inappropriate.” despite his words Kuro was smirking in his own creepy way but his current problem stopped him from continuing his thoughts, “Ugh! Now is not the time to take down the dirty mind route!...I wonder if I can do the nation hop thing here…”

It might not be that obvious in Kuro’s expression since he was one of the personifications with the weirdest mood swings but right now he was really concerned for their kidnapped/rescued albino. Sure, the reason he joined the ‘Team Awesome’ was to pissed off Luciano and to get back at the Northern Italian from all the worst shenanigans he had pulled off on Kuro during the WWII. Also Kuro just really hates Luciano’s bossy attitude. Until now Kuro was still mad for not being the leader during their axis days.

When Kuro met Gilbert for the first time he thought the albino was just another oblivious idiot from the 1P world. His opinion drastically changed though when Kuro accidentally spilled that the other 2Ps visited Gilbert’s world for some needed judgment day towards their own counterparts.

Oh, the sinister glare that Gilbert sent to everyone that time when he was demanding answers. The ex-nation was prepared to lash out only to fall back immediately to sleep when Roland blew a yellow dust straight to Gilbert’s face.

Something tugged on Kuro’s nerves when he saw the conviction in those ruby eyes. The look that says ‘give me the answers I need or I swear I will make your life a personal hell created by me’. It was something that Kuro used to see from the others from his own world but never from Klaus. Yeah, Kuro and Klaus were not really close compared to Luciano’s and Flavio’s relationship with the eldest Beilschmidt but from the brief time they had interacted and from the stories of others, Kuro was 100% sure that Klaus never had such an expression painted on his face. Or at least not very similar to the one that Gilbert gave to Roland.

“Ano…excuse me but may I ask you to stop creating such a loud ruckus? You are disturbing the neighborhood.”

Kuro turned around when he heard the voice talking to him (he was sure they were asking him because he was the only one making the said disturbance) only to come face to face with his counterpart wearing his indoor clothing.

“Oh…” was the only thing Kiku managed to say when he saw the face of the man he was asking to be quiet seconds ago.

“Oh, indeed.” Kuro smirked a bit before moving. In such a short amount of time he was pinning Kiku on the ground with the sharp end of katana just a few millimeters away from his throat, “Now, I need you to be the submissive little shit that you always are and take me to Germany.”

Precautions never hurt anyone after all.

* * *

 

Elizaveta had never been shamed to this extent in her entire life. There was an unspoken rule among their kinds that even if they were in war the female nations would be respected as much as possible. The reason was there were only a minimum number of females in their own kind and they did not want to take their chances. Also, who said that chivalry was already dead? Even Prussia himself was not that rough when she faced him in battles compared to when the albino was fighting against Austria.

But now? Now this woman who bears such a scary resemblance to her and strapped her on a chair with minimum amount of fabrics to cover her body? Elizaveta was not very happy.

And how could this woman in front of her move with such agility while wearing that frilly attire? Did each frill have a hidden weapon inside? She would not be surprised if that was the case for her enemy just pulled out a lot of blades that could rival Natalya’s.

“As much as I would like to make you suffer further I am in a hurry here. So for both of our sakes, I need you to take me to Germany.”

“Huh, and what makes you think I will help you? You just attacked me minutes ago.”

Wrong answer.

She was not able to stop the scream that escaped her mouth when two sharp objects found a place deep within her thighs. To show no mercy further the woman who was having a grand time hurting her twisted the knives making much deeper wounds.

“Did I say I was asking? Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, it seems you are much of an idiot than I initially thought.”

Pulling the small knives without care was twice painful compared to when it was embedded.

“I can go to Germany in my own actually but I need an insurance that I will get what I want once I get there.”

“So…I am…your hostage…” Elizaveta managed to say in between ragged breathes.

“Exactly! See? You’re getting our situation here!” the woman smiled with sickening joy in her tone, “Also, you have a much stronger connection in this world than me. But one wrong move and I will kill you.”

“In case you don’t know…I’m…immortal…”

“Oh, I am aware of that.” Elizaveta received an amused face from her attacker, “Also I’m one of the few beings that can kill you permanently if I wanted too. I’m your counterpart after all!”

* * *

 

Torturing her counterpart was not in the priority list of Erzsébet actually when she landed in the other world. But when she specifically landed just outside of her counterpart’s bedroom and saw the other Hungary humming happily while holding a picture of the Austria of this world she just saw red.

Being in a place faraway from Gilbert to help and adding the fact that there was still a lingering feeling she wanted to get rid off when she left Roland…it just all add up and she finally snapped.

How could this woman be so happy when Gilbert was now close to death’s door?

How could she be content playing to be the perfect housewife?

How could she love the Austria of this world when the man himself only used the word ‘marriage’ just to protect his own lands?

Maybe it was not true when she said that she could kill this world’s Hungary anytime for Erzsébet was her counterpart.

Maybe it was true, Erzsébet was not sure for she hasn’t tried it before but now? She was willing to try.

But first things first, she needed to get where Gilbert was and help them. She had this nagging feeling that Luciano and Flavio would find a way to chase after them.

Erzsébet didn’t trust Lutz to be able to defend their injured-close-to-death member of ‘Team Awesome’ against the Italian Brothers (which were both out for blood). Also, if her conclusion was right, Kuro was not with them.

Erzsébet has a certain Romanian to kill once all of this fiasco was over.

* * *

 

They…they left him? They left him…just like that? They…they just tossed him aside when he was the one who paid for their ride? A very expensive price but he still had paid nonetheless just to save Gilbert.

 

Why was this happening to him? He failed.

 

He failed.

 

_He failed._

**_He failed. Again._ **

****

 First he had failed to protect Klaus and now he had failed to protect Gilbert?

 

_History always repeats itself_.

 

He didn’t hear his own wails, he didn’t feel how much his throat burns from all the shouting he was making, and he didn’t feel the ache on his knuckles when he kept pounding the floor. He just screamed and _screamed and **screamed.**_ All the miseries, all the failures, all this crushing and numbing glasses that pierced his heart…all of it was just released like a broken dam. Poisonous water came pouring out and nothing at the moment could stop it.

 

He was useless now, without magic he was as useless as his counterpart who always relies to the help of his allies.

 

Roland was so _useless_ and he could not do **_anything_**.

 

He knew that the she-devil was right in leaving him behind but he still resented her in doing so. Roland was prepared to die in order to save Gilbert.

 

Oh god… what if it was too late? What if even though Gilbert was now in his own world the inflicted wound was fatal enough to kill him?

 

Why did he allow Gilbert to have such freedom in the first place? He should have just locked Gilbert in his own mansion, that way Roland could prevent the Italian Brothers from attacking his ‘Princess’. Like the story of Rapunzel, he should have just hide Gilbert in a faraway tower where no one could reach him.

 

That’s right…he should have just trapped Gilbert somewhere that he could call a safe sanctuary.

 

But…it was already too late now.

 

The worst thing that could happen was for Gilbert to finally meet his end.

 

How did this mess started? Roland had no answer for it anymore. He was slowly…so slowly…losing his own mind.

 

Maybe there was a supreme being who took pity on him after all for when he shifted his position and stared brokenly at the ceiling he suddenly heard a body hitting the ground. Yes, Roland knew how a human body sounds when it hit the ground, next time you should ask him how a human bodied sound when being pierced by countless bullets.

 

“Hi, Roland!” Loki, one of the members of magic trio and the Nordic five, peered down at him with a goofy smile and covering his view of the ceiling.

 

“Oh…hi, Loki.” He giggled, _giggled_ , from the listless response he got from Roland. How could Denmark stay sane while having Loki in the same house? Simple, lots of meditation and coffee. Also, quick reflexes helped because Loki just adores pulling pranks with the help of Sweden.

 

“So, so, Roland~ a little birdie told me you got in an unfair exchange a few minutes ago~”

 

…what?

 

“Damn you Loki! Get me out of these infernal chains this instant!”

 

Didn’t Vasska left them already? Looking to the side, Roland saw the magician who required his magic as payment for a portal bound in…well chains wrapped around his body. When Vasska kept spouting curses towards Loki was the moment Roland saw that Denmark was with them and pressed a foot down on Vasska’s lungs.

 

“Now, now, Vasska~ You have been a naughty kid~” Loki straightened his back only to bend forward again in order to look down at the chain bound nation on the floor, “We have to set things right before it’s too late you know?~”

 

“G-gah! Get your damn foot off me!”

 

Denmark just rolled his eyes and put more pressure making Vasska to squirm in pain, “Oi, Norge, can we make this quick? I still have a lot of things to do.”

 

“Hm…Okay!” Loki started petting Vasska’s head as if he was a cat throwing a temper tantrum, “You see, Vasska, what you did earlier _really_ upset the balanced of magic distribution.”

 

“You…gah! Will you let go!...gh..” Vasska gave a hateful glare towards Loki (who was still smiling like an innocent child), “You have no proof of what I have done.”

 

“Ahaha! Silly Romania, you always have the funniest jokes.”

 

Loki’s right hand started to fumble on the chains and every place that his skin passes by emits a faint blue glow that Roland later realized were runes written in Norway’s old language. The more runes started glowing and the brighter it got was the more Vasska’s features started to get paler, as in sickly close to death pale.

 

“Stop that! Are you trying to—gah!—kill me?!”

 

“Just want to make a point~” Loki giggled again. Why did he keep giggling? Sometimes he was worse than Oliver. After that the human personification of Norway resumed on petting Vasska’s head.

 

“Oliver asked me to keep an eye out in this building in case something happened. He feared that a naughty Romanian might take an advantage if worse comes to worst. And now we are here! Also, did you really think I will not notice you stealing Austria’s magical abilities?” He made this sound like he was scolding a child who was caught thieving a cookie from the jar, “Remember Vasska~ Magic is similar to alchemy~ we should follow equivalent exchange!”

 

At this, Vasska tried to appear confident, “Too late, you can’t make me return to him what I have taken, unless I give it back willingly.”

 

“Hm, you’re really funny!”

 

“Romania, if I were you I will just follow what Norway wants you to do.”

 

In truth, no one really knows the extent of Norway’s powers. Well, no one besides from the Nordics, even Oliver and Vasska had no idea how powerful Loki could be. For Denmark to say such an ominous advice…it was enough to make Romania to be cautious of his next words to speak…or maybe Denmark was just itching to go back from what he was doing before.

 

Still, it was better to take the risk. At least that was what Romania told himself.

 

“Heh, what would you do to me if I say ‘no’?” it was clear that Romania was trying to appear strong despite all the pain slowly being inflicted upon his body.

 

“Let’s see~” Loki pondered with a sing song voice, “I can always try to douse you with sulfuric acid! Or, I can let my fairies do what they want to you! Although you know my fairies are not the good type unlike the ones who always hang out with Oliver~ But I doubt physical harms will make you do what we want. So~” Loki tilted his head to the side, almost appearing as if his neck was snapped from the bone, his eyes turned a glowing red, and his mouth was wide open and showing something aching to a smile albeit it was not in the intent of making someone comfortable.

 

“I can just control your mind, body, and soul~”


End file.
